Читать книгу Wild Cat And The Marine - Jade Taylor - Страница 12

WILL PEERED OUT the kitchen window as his tall son left the gravel road and started walking across the field toward Catherine Darnell’s place. He shook his head and went over to the coffeepot and filled two cups, then carried them back into the living room with the awkward limping gait the knee injury forced on him.

He handed one to Bertie and sat down next to her on the sofa. But not too close. Carefully easing his injured leg onto the patchwork ottoman, he shook his head again. “Looks like Jackson is going over to see Catherine.”

“I wondered when he might. Jackson’s been working so hard he hasn’t had time to visit his old friends.”

“He’s a good boy, mostly.”

“Now, Will Gray, why can’t you say one nice thing about your son without watering it down?”

“I love him right enough. It’s just that he worries me no end. I’m afraid he’s fixing to mess up his life.”

“I can’t see how visiting an old school friend could do that.” She lifted her coffee cup and eyed Will over the steaming brew.

Will looked back at her and for a moment forgot what he’d intended to answer. He set his coffee cup down on the end table. It gave him time to think. Then he turned back to her. “Don’t you?”

“Catherine Darnell is the finest woman in Engerville. There’s any number of things she could have done after she had her girl, but what she did was settle down and raise her the right way. I admire that. A woman isn’t a mother because she has a baby. She’s a mother when she takes care of it. Same thing I’ve always said about men.”

“I agree. One hundred percent.”

“Then why are you worried about him seeing Catherine?”

“Just seeing her won’t hurt anything, I guess.”

“Well, then?”

“I don’t have to ask you not to repeat this. I know you won’t. I’ve always wondered if that little girl is my granddaughter.”

“Wasn’t Jackson going with Rebeka back then?”

“He took Catherine to the prom. Both of them busted up with their steadies about two weeks before the prom. The opportunity was there, but I can’t see Jackson not owning up to it. If Joey was his, he would take care of her, at least. I raised him not to lie, cheat or steal, and if he’s guilty here, then he’s done all three.”

“‘If’ is a big word. Opportunity doesn’t mean he’s the culprit.”

A sudden rush of emotion choked Will. He took another sip of coffee and the hot liquid helped him speak. “Believe it or not, but I’d give anything if that child was my granddaughter. I fell in love with her when she was a baby and first started going to church with me and Helen. She’s the cutest little thing and she reminds me of Helen in some ways.”

Bertie smiled, reached over and patted Will’s hand. “You still miss her, don’t you?”

Will nodded.

JACKSON HEARD VOICES as he approached Gray’s Way. Stepping off the road, he moved to the shadows underneath a tall tree. Will stood in the yard, his walnut cane beneath his hand as he said good-night to Bertie Gillis.

“Awfully good of you to come by again,” he said.

Despite the heat of the day, the night air chilled bare arms. Bertie tugged her shawl closer about her shoulders, and tilted her blond head toward the older man. “I please myself, you know. I bear some of the responsibility for your injuries, and besides, if I didn’t enjoy cooking for you and Jackson, I certainly wouldn’t do it.”

“You bear no blame for giving me the chance to buy a young bull at a good price. I should have been more careful. I appreciate your coming by, though. More than the cooking, even, is the talk.”

“Now that is one thing I know how to do.”

Will laughed.

Bertie smiled and looked toward the tree that sheltered Jackson.

Jackson knew she couldn’t see him. The night obscured his presence too well, so why did uneasiness crawl up his spine as if he leaned against an ant’s nest, instead of a sturdy maple tree?

Bertie turned back to face Will. “Well, I’d better be leaving. Tomorrow’s my sewing circle night, but I’ll come by the day after. If you’d like?”

“I haven’t enjoyed such wonderful cooking since Helen died. Not to mention the company. With Cassidy gone and Jackson just here for a little while, I get lonely.”

Bertie nodded shortly and turned away from her companion. “Well, then. ’Bye, Will.”

From behind the tree, Jackson watched and listened. There was no mistaking the hungry look on his father’s face. His stomach went hollow, as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks. His father and Bertie? Surely not.

Jackson watched his father hold the car door for Bertie, then stand there alone, frowning as he watched the taillights until they curved around a bend in the road and vanished. He turned to go back into the house.

Pine needles rustled under Jackson’s feet. The sound from the shadows startled his father.

“Who’s there?”

Jackson winced. Pop’s hearing was as good as ever. “Just me, Pop.”

“Jackson?”

“Yes. It’s me.”

“Why are you lurking in the dark? Trying to scare a man to death?”

“Aw, Pop, I was just giving you a chance to kiss your girlfriend good-night.”

Pop’s voice rose. “Mind your manners, boy! I can still tan your hide.”

“So what’s wrong with a good-night kiss?”

Will looked sharply at him. “How long were you standing there?”

Jackson countered his look with a long, cool stare of his own. “Long enough.”

“You still planning on leaving?”

“After you’re better.”

“If that’s the case, then maybe you ought to stay away from the Darnell place.”

Jackson knew what Pop hinted at. He couldn’t admit it to his father. “Cat’s a friend, that’s all.”

His father snapped, “Then act like a friend and stay away from her. She’s already been hurt once.”

Jackson stiffened. “Don’t you think I’m a little old to be giving orders to?”

“It’s not orders, son. It’s advice. Do Cat a favor and take it.”

Will climbed the porch steps slowly. He paused on the third riser and looked down at Jackson, his angular features hard. “She’s been hurt before. I don’t want my blood to be a part of hurting her again.”

Jackson’s quick temper edged his voice with anger. “Maybe you should practice what you preach, old man!”

“Who’re you calling an old man? I’ve got half a mind to see if a little North Dakota dust on your backside would teach you some manners!”

For a long moment Jackson stared up at his father coldly. He didn’t look fragile, and the hard set to his jaw announced his feelings in no uncertain tones, but his hand clutched the walnut cane. Jackson shook his head as if to clear it, and shot a weak smile in Pop’s direction. “If you think it might, I’d be willing to roll around a bit and see how much dust I can gather.”

His father’s keen gaze relaxed and a thin smile tipped his lips. He nodded. “You probably would. Forget it. What did you mean by telling me to practice what I preach?”

“It doesn’t take a farmer to see you and Bertie are two peas in the same pod.”

“Nonsense! She’s being a good neighbor.” He turned, climbed the last step and limped across the porch to the door.

Jackson called out to the stiff back, “Well, you try kissing her good-night next time she’s over and see how neighborly she gets!”

His father looked back, indignation pulling down his rusty brows and making his face go all angles and planes. “You think because you’ve been away in the Marines you can come home and try to tell your old man the facts of life? I’ve known Bertie since the day she was born.”

“I suppose you’d remember?”

“Sweetest woman in the county, despite the village idiots who named her ‘Crabby,’ and one of the nicest, too.” He paused. “I was almost ten years old. Of course, I remember. Now you get yourself in bed, and leave me to tend my own chickens. You’ll need to be up by four-thirty to meet the Greyhound bus carrying the new fuel pump for that tractor you broke this morning.”

“I broke? You’re kidding, aren’t you?”

“Not more than a smidgen. Come on, now. Let’s go in.”

“Might as well. You’re as good at changing the subject as anyone I’ve ever met. If a guy is going to get a stepmother, then I think he ought to be told about it.”

His father’s anger faded as he stared over Jackson’s head into the shadowed farmyard. A vagrant breeze stirred the leaves of the trees, so they rustled softly. “It’s not been four years since your mother died. Even if I wanted to, and Bertie was willing, it wouldn’t seem right.”

Jackson quit his teasing. It wasn’t funny anymore. He offered a token of peace. “I wouldn’t mind. Cassidy would be okay with it, too.”

“Go to bed, boy, and quit trying to marry off your father.”

Jackson laughed and climbed the steps two at a time. Before he went inside, he looked toward Cat’s place. He couldn’t see any lights. She might have gone to bed. The instant image the thought provoked made him uneasy. He had no business picturing Cat in bed and himself beside her. Maybe the danger was real.

“OH, MOMMY! They’re beautiful!”

“Pick one to keep, Joey. You worked as hard as I did.”

Joey pondered the gleaming necklaces they had made after Jackson left. Outside, the wind rose and Cat heard it keening against the pine siding of the house. The weather always seemed just on the verge of breaking in.

Joey’s small hand hovered over the neatly laid rows of rhodinium, crystal, jade and jasper. She reached for a necklace of fire-cut crystal as boldly red as rubies, yet its value only a few dollars. Picking it up, she held it to her neck and bent forward to use the table mirror to check its effect, her shoulder-length hair swinging forward as she did so. Then she laid it back down.

“Pick one, Teddy Bear.”

Joey took the crystal necklace and slipped it over her head. It lay in a blaze of red against her yellow T-shirt.

“Not exactly a match,” Cat said.

“What’s a match?” Joey asked.

“When things go together. You know, like bees and flowers, like you and your best buddy, Tommy Karl.” Like me and a certain redhead.

“Like me and you. Right, Mom?”

“Yes, honey, like you and me.” Cat hugged Joey and kissed her cheek. Joey smelled like the strawberry ice cream she’d had for dessert and something else. Cat sniffed again. Horse. The faint odor of horse clung to her daughter despite her shower before dinner and the fresh jeans and T-shirt. Cat laughed. “Exactly like you and me.” She rubbed her cheek against Joey’s hair. In full sun, her daughter’s walnut hair would show a bit of auburn. A tiny bit, but enough to remind Cat of fire.