Читать книгу Hallie's Hero - Nicole Foster - Страница 11

In all Hallie’s memory, the ride back to the ranch house had never seemed so long. With each step Jack’s horse took, a different part of her body reacted.

“Not much farther.” Jack’s low voice rumbled against her ear. “How are you doing?”

Hallie shifted, not sure which demanded more of her attention, the unforgiving saddle leather or the rub of his thigh against her backside. “I never knew sitting in a saddle could feel like torture.”

“Ah, well, try riding for two weeks straight with only a few hours sleep every day.”

“Mmm, that sounds like a story,” Hallie said, glancing over her shoulder at him. “Take some poor fool’s last dollar only to find out he had brothers, did you?”

Jack laughed. “Something like that. Let’s just say it’s hard to live on your luck for so many years without a few close calls.”

Letting herself relax a little, Hallie found it easier on her bottom to lean against Jack’s chest. He made it hard not to like him when he was doing his best to be accommodating. And the new feeling he gave her—of being protected, even coddled a little—Hallie discovered she didn’t mind so much.

She could even get used to it. “Tell me your story, would you?”

“It’s not much of a tale. It happened when I was too green and too full of myself to know when to bury my aces instead of laying ’em down. That was the first time I took Redeye Bill Barlow’s winnings, and if he’d caught up with me it would’ve been my last.”

“You knew Redeye before?”

Jack didn’t realize his arms had tightened around her until Hallie wriggled a bit. He forced himself to relax his hold on her. “Longer than I want to remember.”

She thought about that for a minute, and Jack wondered if she’d push him to say something more. Instead, she surprised him by murmuring, “I hope Serenity doesn’t need help with supper. Standing at that stove doesn’t sound too appealing right now.”

“Don’t worry, Miss Hal, I’ll help her, if it comes to that.”

“You?” Hallie started laughing. “Are you asking me to believe you found time to learn to cook between women and games?”

“Don’t insult my cooking until you taste it.” Jack paused a moment, then added in a voice he deliberately kept light, “My pa wasn’t one to cook for or keep up with a boy he thought was old enough to fend for himself. I’ve got many talents that might surprise you.”

“Rolling dice doesn’t count.”

“I’ll have you know, darlin’, I’ve had my share of respectable jobs in my time.”

“This I would like to hear,” Hallie said, deliberately teasing him because she wanted to know more about him. She’d pegged him as sweet-talking and shallow. But from the few things he’d said about his past, she was beginning to get a different picture of him.

He’d managed to smooth over and bury a good part of himself beneath layers of fine manners and fancy clothes. Except once in a while, the boy in him showed through, and Hallie guessed it was a boy with a rough and unstable start in life, perhaps much like his own son.

She closed her eyes a moment to concentrate on the rise and fall of his chest against her back, a pang of sympathy pricking her heart. There was more to Jack Dakota than met the eye, that was for certain.

“Let’s see,” he was saying, “I worked in a mercantile for a few months, I washed dishes in a restaurant and I played piano in several hotels. You should hear my rendition of ‘Old Coon Zip.’”

“To do that, you and I would have to pay a visit to the Silver Snake.”

Jack leaned over to look at her. “Do I want to know why?”

Hallie sighed and fingered a frayed edge of leather on the reins. “You know Lila Lee,” she said, referring to the woman who owned the saloon. “I sold her my ma’s piano after Pa died. She’s sweet on Tenfoot, so I got a good price.”

Jack didn’t have to ask why. He knew Hallie had scraped together every dollar she had to try and buy Eden’s Canyon back from the bank. It was obvious from the empty places in the sprawling ranch house that she’d sold most everything but the clothes on her back to pay off her father’s debts.

He knew from the gossip in town that Jim Ryan had lost his money and his ranch at the card tables. It was no wonder Hallie resented Jack, a professional gambler, buying Eden’s Canyon out from under her.

Ace lurched sideways over a patch of rough ground and Hallie grabbed for the pommel to keep her balance.

At once, Jack’s arm swept around her waist, pulling her up out of the saddle and hard against him. His forearm brushed the underside of her breasts as Ace found his footing again.

Hallie angled herself away from Jack the moment she felt she wouldn’t fall out of the saddle. The last thing she needed right now was more of his touch.

“Are you all right?” he asked. “Sorry, I didn’t see that coming.”

“It’s not your fault. And the damage can’t get any worse at this point.”

“It will if you don’t stay off your feet for a while.”

Hallie’s shoulders shifted. “Serenity can’t do everything. Besides, I’ve had my share of scrapes and bruises. They never stopped me from doing what needed to get done.”

“You’re a damned stubborn female, Hallie Ryan,” Jack said, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

“Stubborn I’ve been called many a time,” Hallie agreed. “Female’s the part they usually leave out.”

She expected Jack to come back with some teasing retort. Instead his arm around her waist tightened a fraction.

“I don’t know who ‘they’ are, but their eyesight’s not too good. Look…” He gestured toward the barn and corral visible in the distance. “Your torture is nearly at an end.”

Jack slid out of the saddle as soon as they neared the ranch house, knowing Hallie would throw her leg over the horse’s neck and jump down on her own if he didn’t hit ground first. She’d sooner suffer the pain than lose one more particle of her already wounded pride.

With one swift motion he was at her side, arms outstretched, leaving her no way off of Ace but into his arms. He looked up at her and saw a slight frown pucker her forehead beneath the brim of her ugly hat.

“And you call me stubborn?” she grumbled, glancing from side to side. Finding no witnesses, she hastily slid down against him.

For an instant, they stood practically nose to nose, his hands measuring the surprisingly small span of her waist. Hidden beneath her billowing shirt and loose pants, her shape was a curiosity of increasing interest to him, probably because she was so determined to keep any hint of her femininity hidden. A lopsided smile quirked his mouth. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Compared to what—dancing a reel with a tumbleweed?” Hallie asked, trying not to give away the effect being this close to him had on her.

She didn’t like what he could do to her with a single touch. She liked it well enough, though, to stay still within his hold.

Despite her light quip, Jack felt her quickening breath, saw her eyes widen slightly. She might not look or act like any woman he’d known, but she couldn’t help responding like one.

“Come on,” he said, sliding his gaze down her. “Let’s get you inside and out of those britches.”

“You don’t give up, do you, Dakota?” Pulling away from him, she swung around and started toward the house, ignoring his call after her.

“I didn’t intend to take them off you, darlin’,” he said to her back. “Though I’d be glad to help, if you’d like.”

“Go away,” Hallie yelled over her shoulder as she shoved open the front door.

She went straight to the kitchen, hoping Serenity would have some of that willow powder she used to make soothing teas. At the kitchen door, she heard Ben say something in a low voice, then Serenity’s musical laughter.

She found Ben and the girl standing side by side near the table, Serenity’s face aglow, Ben’s hand at her elbow as she smiled into his eyes.

They turned in unison when Hallie stepped inside, their expressions changing at once. Serenity darted several uneasy steps away from Ben, keeping her eyes downcast.

Ben glanced at her, then scowled at Hallie. “I thought you were checkin’ the herd.”

“Obviously.”

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked, before Hallie could say anything more. “You’re walkin’ like you haven’t been off a horse for a month.”

Hallie opened her mouth, only to close it as Jack strode up beside her and shot Ben a look that clearly warned the boy to mind what he said. “I’m happy to see you here, Ben,” Jack said. “You can help me and Miss Serenity with the cooking tonight.”

“What…cooking?”

Hallie jerked her hat off and turned to stare hard at Jack. “I told you, I’m fine.”

“You know, I might believe that, if you’d agree to take care of yourself.” Trying to appeal to her in a way she might accept, as an equal, he laid a hand on her shoulder. “Listen, we’re partners, and while I know you’d rather kiss a wild boar every morning than accept that, this is a chance for me to have some time alone with everyone.”

Hallie shook her head, not willing to give him the slightest advantage over her. “I’m sure you mean well, but I told you earlier, thanks but no thanks.” Stepping out of his reach, she turned to Serenity. “We’ll use the spring peas and the rest of the ham from last Sunday’s supper. Oh, and I moved the peas we put up early to the front of the top shelf of the pantry.”

Not quite meeting Hallie’s eyes, Serenity nodded and scuttled past them out the door.

“I’ll give you a hand,” Ben called after her, eager to flee from his sister before she changed her mind about Dakota’s idea and had him cooking supper.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Jack refused to back down. “Changing the subject won’t make it go away. The men will have to accept me sooner or later, but I’d like it to be sooner, and on peaceful terms. Come on, Miss Hal,” he coaxed, holding out his hands. “It’s supper, not a cattle drive.”

Hallie yearned to say no. While she knew it was stupid of her not to rest her backside and properly tend to her injuries, a small, jealous part of her didn’t want to give up any of her responsibilities at Eden’s Canyon to Jack Dakota.

Still, turning him down seemed more spiteful than anything. And she did hurt enough to cringe at the idea of standing up to fix supper and then sitting down to eat it.

“Okay,” she said reluctantly. “This once, my kitchen’s all yours.”

Jack nodded and held the door open for her, watching as she slowly and painfully made her way to her room.

He supposed he should feel good about winning their latest battle. But he was left with the uncomfortable sensation that he’d done more damage to Hallie’s dignity than he’d helped to heal her wounded backside.

“I can’t believe I rode the biggest one. Can I do it again tomorrow?”

Hearing the excitement in Ethan’s voice, Jack turned from the griddle on the stove to see his son come into the kitchen, glued to Tenfoot’s side.

“You must have talked your way onto one of the horses,” he said, smiling at his son’s happy grin.

It struck him that he’d never seen Ethan smile like that, and Jack found himself wishing from somewhere deep inside that it had been he, and not Tenfoot, who had put that smile on his son’s face.

“You should have seen me,” Ethan said. “I was ridin’ that big brown stallion all around the corral, wasn’t I, Mr. Tenfoot?”

“Just like you were born to it,” Tenfoot answered. His eyebrows arched up as he took in the sight of Jack, a dishcloth slung over his shoulder, flipping eggs at the big black cast-iron stove. “Looks like your pa got himself a new job while we was out. Don’t think I’ve ever seen the likes of you in this kitchen in my thirty-odd years here.”

Jack didn’t have time to explain as Charlie and Eb came in behind Tenfoot. Instead of taking their usual seats at the table, they, too, stopped to stare at Jack.

“Don’t wait to be invited. Come on in and sit down,” Jack ordered, waving them in with his spatula.

Serenity, working with Ben to get the table set, put a pile of plates into Ben’s hands and let the men get settled as she went to fetch the platter of ham.

“Where’s Hal?” Charlie asked, eyes narrowed as he looked around the room.

“She had a little run-in with an unfriendly cactus today,” Jack answered over his shoulder, “so she’s resting.”

“Rest? Hal?” Eb shook his head doubtfully as he took his usual seat at the far end of the table. “That don’t sound like her. She ain’t dead, is she?”

Jack smiled to himself as he remembered Hallie and him together. “She’s about as far from dead as anyone can be. Don’t worry, she’ll be back in the saddle tomorrow. But for tonight…” he bent to pull two trays of king-size biscuits from the oven “…I’m doing most of the cooking. And since the only thing I can cook worth eating is breakfast, breakfast it is tonight. How do you want your eggs?”

The men sat in silence while Jack searched their faces, one by one, for a response. At last Ben lifted his plate and handed it across the table toward Jack. “I’ll take four, fried on both sides.”

Jack reached for the plate. “Done.”

One by one, hunger got the better of the others, and they surrendered their plates as well. As they ate, the tension in the room relaxed and Jack found it easier to ask them about the day’s activities.

Even Ethan opened up enough to tell him a little about his ride on Tenfoot’s horse. And he also managed to put away his share of eggs and ham.

Jack filled the biscuit basket for the third time, and Big Charlie reached for them before the basket hit the table. Glancing to the doorway and lowering his voice, the burly cowboy muttered, “Don’t be giving me away to Hal, but I gotta say, these are some of the best durned biscuits I ever ate.”

Eb, his mouth crammed with ham, nodded in agreement, giving Jack the first real sense of gaining ground since he’d come.

“I won’t tell her because then she’ll be having me in the kitchen all the time,” he teased. “I’d better save a few for her, though.”

“I’ll take her a plate,” Serenity said, shoving away from the table.

“No, I’ll do that,” Jack replied in a tone he knew she wouldn’t question. “Ben will stay and help you clean up, won’t you, Ben?”

“Me? Wash dishes?”

Serenity turned her sweetest smile on him. “You can dry, Ben. I’ll do the washing.”

He flushed from foot to forehead, and a round of raucous laughter filled the kitchen. When it died down, Jack turned to Ethan, who sat as close to Tenfoot as space would allow. “How was your supper?”

Ethan didn’t look up from his nearly empty plate. “Strange havin’ breakfast for supper.”

“Well, I guess it’s better than an empty belly.” Jack didn’t press Ethan any further. The fact that the boy had said anything to him this evening was progress. “I’m going up to give Miss Hallie her supper. When you’re done, go on to your room and wash up. I’ll come in a little while and check in on you for the night.”

Crumbling the last bit of his biscuit between his fingers, Ethan only nodded.

Jack ignored Serenity’s doubtful look as he pushed away from the table and went to fix a tray for Hallie. Charlie and Eb leaned back as they finished the last dregs of their coffee.

“Not half-bad grub fer a tenderfoot wrangler,” Eb offered as he put down his cup and got to his feet.

Charlie nodded in agreement.

As they ambled out to the bunkhouse, Jack decided that was one of the best compliments he’d ever had.

Jack balanced the tray on one hand at Hallie’s door and knocked lightly at first, then more firmly when she didn’t answer. He waited a few more moments before deciding to risk going inside. She was probably sleeping, but he didn’t want to leave without making sure she hadn’t taken a turn for the worse.

Slowly, he eased the door open and stepped far enough inside to get a good look at her bed, expecting to see Hallie curled up in a nest of faded quilts and pillows. She wasn’t there.

Typical of her, Jack thought, as he stalked back down the hall to the kitchen. Why should he be surprised at anything the bullheaded woman did?

Serenity met him at the door, glancing at the untouched tray. “Is she all right?”

“She’s gone,” Jack said shortly. He handed her the tray. “Where would she go this time of night?”

Chewing at her lower lip, Serenity hesitated, then said, “Maybe to the barn. She’s been worried about that colt, the one Ethan’s been helping with. But you probably shouldn’t—”

“You’re right. But shouldn’t is what I do best. Besides, someone’s got to talk some sense into her,” he muttered on his way out the back door. “She doesn’t have any business being out of bed.”

She didn’t have any business being in bed. Unable to lie there and stare at the walls a moment longer when there was so much to be done, Hallie had gotten up and made her way to the barn as soon as she heard the men come in for supper.

She’d checked on the horses, then gotten down the currycomb to take to the orphaned colt’s stall to brush his curly coat.

The familiar rhythm and simply being alone with the animals soothed her. She was comfortable here, at ease with the feel and smells of the sturdy cedar-wood building. It was one of the few places she didn’t feel awkward or out of place.

She loved the earthiness of it, the fresh scents of hay and corn, the soothing whinnies of the horses, the low moans and shuffling about of the milk cows. As she continued currying the colt, she absently hummed a soft little tune in time with the motion of her hands.

Somehow the simple task brought her upside-down world aright, and things didn’t seem so terrible. She would get through this, just as she’d gotten through every other trouble the ranch had thrown at her over the years. She’d survived problems much worse than Jack Dakota.

The crunch of straw underfoot broke Hallie’s peace. She turned to find Jack behind her, his long, lithe figure leaning lazily against the slats of a nearby stall, a piece of straw dangling from his lips.

With a sigh, Hallie went back to brushing the colt. “You’ve got this habit of sneaking up on me. I don’t like it.”

Though her words were short, Jack noticed the lack of heat in them. She sounded more as if she’d resigned herself to having him appear where and when she least wanted him. “That’s too bad,” he said lightly. “If you gave it half a chance, you might find the unexpected can be exciting.”

Hallie didn’t know what to say to him. She didn’t have any experience of men with silver tongues and teasing smiles, who did their best to make a person feel all twisted up inside. It seemed better to say nothing than to risk making herself look foolish.

Jack watched as she finished currying the colt, then gave the animal a final pat before getting up off her knees and unlatching the stall door.

She seemed different, somehow. As usual, his banter had made her ill at ease. But in the wavering lamplight, with the darkness wrapped around them, she looked gentler, softer around the edges. Though her hair was hastily braided, and she still wore a shapeless, mannish shirt and baggy pants, he’d seen a tenderness in the way she stroked the colt and the quiet way she spoke to it, a grace in the way she moved.