Plots and Pans (39 page)

T
ucker kept his hand out and his smile hidden, certain Jess wouldn’t be able to resist an invitation wrapped in a challenge.

Her chin lifted, telling him his ploy worked. She took a step … away. Only then did Jess extend her arm, straight out, keeping as much space as possible between them.

Too much space
. His instincts screamed to pull her close and hold tight,
right now
, but Tucker stepped back to widen the gulf between them even more. He looked pointedly from his boots to hers as though gauging the distance.

“First catch of the day!” he teased, gently tugging her toward him. “Reel her in, and she’s all mine.”

“Catch and release!” Jess ordered, laughing while she dug in her heels. But the muddy riverbank offered no traction to stop her swift slide. Slipping closer than he’d planned, Jess steadied herself by placing a palm against his chest.

Close enough to kiss
. Her fingers curled into the fabric, and Tucker’s self-control started to fray. Her gaze reflected the same spark he felt, but where his burned steady, hers flickered with doubt. Doubt he needed to dispel.

“I won’t cross the line, Jess. I’ll always try to pull you close, but I’m not going to do something that pushes you away.” Tucker drew a deep breath before removing her palm from his chest. He kept both her hands cradled in his and gave a reassuring squeeze before loosening his grip. “So for now, catch and release.”

She squeezed back to show he hadn’t scared her off, then skirted around him to settle atop the blanket. “You’re the one who wanted to fish.”

“Still do. But tell me …” Tucker grinned and settled beside her. He reached out and snagged one of her damp curls, looping it around his forefinger. “What do
you
want, Jess?”

To belong
. Jess shook her head against the thought, sending the lock springing free from his finger to bounce against her temple. It seemed too intimate a thing to say aloud, so she turned Tucker’s question back on him.

“What do
you
think I want?”

“This is probably where I oughta say a man can never know a woman’s mind.” His grin received an answering one from her. “Truth of the matter is, I think men and women both want the same things. Maybe not the little things, but deep down, at the very heart, I think all of us share the same simple need.”

He reached over to bait her hook, brushing the back of her fingers with his. Despite the tingle from his touch, Jess couldn’t help but see the parallel between the fishing and the conversation. If the fish took his bait half as well as she did, they’d eat well tonight!

“All of us?”

“Do you want to hear about that, or do you want to know what I reckon it is you’d say if you’d answered the question yourself?”

Jess didn’t know whether to wince or smile. Tucker paid close attention to what she did—and didn’t—say. Even when it put her on the spot, she couldn’t help but appreciate being the focus of attention.

“The first one.”

“Some will say it sounds silly spoken aloud, but I think no one wants to be alone unless something’s gone very wrong. Every one of us wants to be chosen. It’s the fundamental human need, to be needed by someone else.” Tucker slanted a glance toward her. “How’m I doing so far?”

“Why do you think we all need the same thing?” Every word spoke to a longing Jess never put words to.

“God Himself wants to be chosen and loved.” Tucker drew in a deep breath. “He made us in His image, for the purpose of companionship… . It only stands to reason we’d crave that same thing.”

“I suppose you might be on to something there.” Jess turned the idea over, fitting it against some of her own questions about the Almighty. “You know, I wondered why God allowed distance between our hearts and His. I struggle to understand a Father who leaves His children hurting, letting us choose wrong when He could make everything right and bring every soul to Him so easily. Now I’m starting to see the reason.”

Tucker’s gaze seemed to burn straight through her. “With Him, just like with us, love has to be a choice.”

“Sounds obvious when you put it that way. Simple, even.” Jess rubbed her fingers along the nubby weave of the horse blanket. “But love between people isn’t so easy. It has to be earned with trust and understanding.”

“Do you understand that I choose you, Jess?”

“I do now.” Tears stung her eyes and nose as she confessed, “But I don’t know why.”

“Because you don’t hide behind a mask, telling people what they want to hear. You’re smart and strong and stubborn, but you always take the time to be kind. Even when we argue from opposite sides, I understand what you’re fighting for, and I want to work with you to achieve those dreams.”

“Some things a person has to do alone.”

“Some things don’t have to be done at all.” He raised his voice then softened it again. “You don’t have to prove that you belong at the Bar None, Jess.”

Jess sucked in a sharp breath at how closely he’d guessed her heart’s desire—and how swiftly he’d rejected it. “Everyone needs to prove themselves!”

This time he reacted to the swift hiss of her breath, rubbing her elbow in reassurance. “You don’t have to prove yourself, and you never did. Everyone knows and accepts that you belong.”

“Papa didn’t.” If Jess could snatch the words from the air before they reached his ears, she would’ve. But she couldn’t take the words back, and she couldn’t change the truth behind them. Tucker’s pity at her pronouncement would be her undoing, so she swiftly tacked on, “You didn’t either. You didn’t want me in the stables, in the corrals, on the windmills, on the roundups, or on the drive. Of all the people in the world, how can you be the one to sit here and tell me I don’t have to prove myself?”

“Everyone has to prove their ability before they’re trusted with the responsibilities of the ranch.” Tucker had the gall to agree with her right when she most wanted some splendid, impassioned statement that made her feel special and wanted again. “I meant you don’t have to prove that you deserve a place. You belong on the Bar None simply because of who you are.”

“I don’t want people to tolerate me because of who my father is.”
Not when he sent me away in the first place
. “I want them to respect me as a working partner who contributes to the outfit!”

“I didn’t say you belong there because of your last name.” A muscle worked in his jaw, though he kept his tone even. “Trust that folks are smart enough to respect you because you care about the ranch, the land, and the people who work it. That’s who you are, and that’s why you belong.”

“You’re probably the only man who can tell me off and make me feel better at the same time, Tucker Carmichael.” Jess sniffed and turned her attention to her fishing pole, but smiled anyway. “There were
years
when the only thing I wanted was to come home.”

“But that changed.” She could hear his smile through the words, even as she kept her focus on the fishing hole. “Because you were barely home for a week before you started pushing to come on the long drive.”

“Pushing, was I?” She stiffened at the description. Knowing it was true didn’t make it any more flattering after she’d already been put through the wringer. “Here I thought you were glad for more chances to pull me close.”

He scooted closer, pressing his leg against hers and sliding one strong arm around her waist and bracing his hand against the blanket. “I am. Never doubt that.”

“You can pull me close or you can keep me far away, but you can’t want both.”

“Have you never wanted to shove someone away and yank ’em nearer all at once?”

“That’s ridiculous. Of course not.”

“Oh?” Tucker shifted his weight to lean closer, teasing her with his nearness. The spicy scent of his aftershave snared her as he taunted. “How ’bout now?”

Jess realized she’d leaned toward him, savoring the closeness until his challenge brought her to her senses. She held perfectly still, barely breathing as she wondered whether he’d keep his promise not to cross the line. If he tried kissing her, he’d find himself swimming in the fishing hole.

But he didn’t try any funny business. He cocooned her in his half embrace, simply sitting alongside her as though their nearness were enough. It made her believe what he’d said before and appreciate how much effort he’d put into holding her hand.

Which made her want to push him in the swimming hole for
not
trying to steal a kiss.

“It always comes down to the same struggle for a woman,” Jess muttered. “Being respectable means you can’t do some of the things you want most.”

“Are you trying to say I’m right? You do want to pull me close and push me away?” He didn’t look overly pleased at the prospect of victory, which made things a little easier.

“It means I’m not ready to move fast, and it doesn’t feel right for me to pull you close.” Jess slid her hand across his, twining their fingers together and relishing the way his breath hitched. “Even though I don’t want to push you away anymore.”

In the space of a heartbeat, he swung his other arm around her and closed the distance between them, holding her as though he’d found the missing piece to happiness. He rested his cheek against hers, so she felt his words as much as heard them. “I’ll always want you as close as possible.”

“Go back.” Barefoot, riding bareback, and brandishing a motley assortment of shotguns and pistols, the homesteaders issued their ultimatum.

“Trail’s been here for years.” Tucker tried reasoning with the men, more in desperation than hope. Every year more homesteaders claimed land in southern Kansas, directly northward along the trail. And for the past three years, he’d had trouble with farmers running the outfit away from the best watering spots. But he’d not been turned away from the trail itself.
Lord, You know how dire this situation is. Please help us get through Kansas one last year
.

The only detour available offered no drinkable water. Even pushing the livestock as fast and far as possible, it would take five days to pass through the Saline Reservation, where the waters were so impregnated with alkali salts that they’d poison man and beast. He had to gain passage, so he plastered on a smile and kept talking.

“Whole area was mapped by cattle drives. Without us, there’d be no paths, no stores, no outposts. Surely we can pass through without causing you any trouble. We’ll keep to the trail and steer clear of farmland. I give my word on that.”

“Yer word ain’t gonna keep our livestock from catching Texas fever germs!” One of the men shifted his shotgun to aim at Tucker’s chest.

Once again, Tucker rued the day he’d agreed to let Ed’s scraggly bunch join the trail herd. The livestock showed no signs of fever, but those scrawny additions didn’t look like health on the hoof either. “My cattle aren’t ill.”

“Texas cows don’t come up feverin’. They carry the disease and leave it behind to poison the livelihood of God-fearing farmers!” The loudmouth who’d aimed at him ended on a yell, rallying the others to shout alongside him.

“We’ll press on at top speed.” Tucker kept trying to strike a bargain. “Keep our herd closely contained, out of any fenced fields and away from any other cattle we spot. You’d barely know we passed through.”

This time the leather-faced leader didn’t let the surly troublemaker get a word in. “Cain’t let in one outfit but block the rest.”

“Why not? Your land, your decision.” Tucker wasn’t above groveling when it came to the safety of his crew. Especially this season.

“And it’s already been made, so don’t waste time clackin’ yer jaws!”

The trigger-happy lout waved his weapon as further warning. “Step foot on our land, we’ll see to it you and yours never leave it.”

W
hat do you mean, we’re not leaving?” Jess dusted floury hands on her apron and wondered what made Tucker so tense after such a pleasant afternoon yesterday.

“Homesteaders have laid claim to the trail. When I went scouting for the next campsite, they rode up and denied us passage. They’ll shoot before allowing the risk of Texas fever.” As he spoke, a muscle ticked in his jaw.