Wanted: Fairy Godmother (10 page)

“Give them time. This is all new to them. It’s scary.”

The break in her voice convinced him she wasn’t just talking about his cousins. Tentatively, he rubbed his knuckles down her cheek, touching the soft, silky skin in reverence. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, Callie.”

She pulled away quickly, turning to stare out the passenger window. “The boys are watching.”

Glancing over his shoulder, Jake almost burst into laughter as his cousins pressed their faces against the back window, trying to see Callie and him better. Their scrunched-up expressions and flattened noses brought to mind the Three Stooges reference and lightened Jake’s sour mood from earlier.

Turning around in his seat, Jake set the truck in motion. “Listen, about Mrs. Hudson walking in on us…”

“Forget it.”

Her terse words darted through him like arrows piercing his gut. He hit the brakes. The vehicle slid to an abrupt stop. Tugging her to him by the upper arms, he gathered her near. “No, I’m not about to forget the most erotic, most electrifying kiss of my entire life, honey.” He kissed her, hard and quick, and then set her away from him and drove on.

“Jake?”

He slid a sideways glance to her and nearly groaned aloud in dismay. She pressed a trembling hand against her lips. Her usually sparkling eyes turned dark and her face looked chalk white.

“You don’t understand.”

“Then tell me,” Jake said, sighing heavily.

“Do I still have a job? Mrs. Hudson is back. She can look after the boys again.”

“They need you. I’m not about to fire you.” Lord knew he needed this woman to weave more of her magic over the boys. The problem, to his way of thinking, proved to be limiting her enchanting spells to just his wards.

“You say that now, but I doubt you’d feel the same way if we ever…slept together. So, for the sake of your cousins’ welfare, we should cease and desist while I’m employed by you.”

Jake dragged a hand over his face, pondering her words. How did she become so smart when it came to him? He silently agreed with her. All of his previous attachments with women had been brief flings. None lasted very long, he admitted. In fact, all ended rather quickly the moment the lady began to cling and sink her claws into him.

He shrugged, disliking himself for that particular idiosyncrasy. “You’re right about my cousins. I need to do what’s right by them. And I need you on my side to help me teach them how to become cowboys and fit in around these parts. Deal?” This time he held out his hand.

“Deal.” Her small, delicate hand stayed a few seconds longer than necessary.

He stomped down on the desire to clutch her to him. “Friends-for now, Callie,” he warned her softly. By her audible gasp, he knew she understood his hidden meaning. There would come a time when he’d press the boundaries of their platonic relationship. It couldn’t happen soon enough for him.

Callie twisted toward the window, shoving down the anxious sensation his notice evoked. She’d bought herself some time, time to shore up her reserves, emotional as well as financial.

But somehow she doubted it would be very long before judgment day arrived. She had a sinking feeling she’d already done the unthinkable; she was almost certain she was halfway in love with Jake Lassiter.

The lengthening silence in the cramped cab unnerved her. His musky scent tantalized her. His tenderness touched a spot deep in her soul.

The memory of his touch, his kiss, flared along her nerve endings. The feel of his big, powerful body beneath hers and his callused palms on her bare skin sent waves of heat rolling over her.

Abruptly, she squelched the compelling, all-consuming images from taking control of her mind and body once again. Biting down hard on her bottom lip, she willed herself to think of something else,
anything
else.

Jake stopped at the end of the driveway under the impressive wooden archway announcing the family ranch, and then made a left onto the main road. Callie stretched to look to her right. Gramps’ ranch couldn’t be more than ten, maybe fifteen, miles away. Sweet, heady longing stole into her heart. “Ah…do you have any neighbors down there?” Holding her breath, she waited. A mixture of part dread and part hope bubbled in her veins.

He shrugged. “None that we can speak of.”

Her belly dipped as if she rode a bucking bronc. “Surely there’s someone living there.” Her voice rose and she mentally kicked herself.

He shot her a dark frown. “Nope. Our closest neighbor died some twenty years ago.”

Eighteen
, Callie corrected silently. “Didn’t anyone take it over? Or
buy
it?”

“My father bought it and added the land to our property. I think it used to be called CJ’s or something like that.”

The wind fizzled from her lungs. Gramps had renamed the ranch the day she’d been born, after his first grandchild. Callie Jean Andrews proved a mouthful, so Gramps used her first two initials. Along with naming the place after her, he’d promised it to her when he died. She grew up thinking the ranch would always be her home. How wrong she’d been.

“Your daddy bought it?” she asked in a whispery, breathy voice.

“That’s right.”

“So now it’s yours?” Bands of steel wrapped around her torso, squeezing tightly.

“Right again.” He looked at her searchingly. “You feeling all right? You’re whiter than a pail of milk.”

“What about the house? There’s always a house when someone owns a ranch, right?” She added the last for good measure, knowing full well Gramps had lived in a big, rambling structure.

“Gone now.”

Callie felt as if a thousand-pound bull slammed into her. Her body shook. “How?” she asked, her voice a mere squeak.

“The place would have blown over in a good wind, so my father had it bulldozed.”

Callie clutched at the door, her hand gripping cold, unyielding metal. Swiftly, she leaned out the window, gulping for air. Her ranch was gone, her home demolished. All her dreams shattered at her feet. Emptiness nearly swallowed her whole. Now what was she going to do?

Callie waited while the guys tried on clothes. The heavy scent of leather hung in the air, evoking powerful memories of yesteryear. Sitting in a chair near the front of the long, rectangular clothing store, Callie closed her eyes.

What will I do now that I’ve found out Jake owns my ranch-or what’s left of it?
she wondered, battling waves of fresh, biting pain. How could she adapt to the new situation, the destruction of her plans?

Perseverance
. The one word whispered across her mind.
Never give up on your dreams, Callie girl.
Hope edged into her heart. Dreams could be altered, even improved on.

She always prided herself on her ability to take it on the chin and come up fighting. Years of practice honed her skills.
Why should this time be any different?
she asked herself, already mentally adjusting to the new conditions.

Jake Lassiter didn’t want permanence in his life. He didn’t even want his own home!

Ideas fluttered through her thoughts. She discarded the ridiculous and entertained the remaining possibilities.

He owned her ranch, yet didn’t want it. He’d travel the rodeo circuit in a few weeks’ time, leaving his cousins to fend for themselves. She could stay on, help the guys, and somehow, someway talk them into selling her Gramps’ place. All for a fair price. Twenty acres should do the trick. Land enough to carve out a home, a future.
They’d never miss a measly twenty when they owned nearly a thousand, right?
she figured.

Callie planned on gambling for her land. Whether it took card playing, testing her bargaining capabilities, or hammering out a long-term deal, she’d win.

In the meantime, she’d show Jake how indispensable she’d become in his life. Maybe, just maybe, the thickheaded man would open his eyes and see that he desperately needed this fairy godmother for himself.

“Hello, darlin’. Where’ve you been hiding all my life?”

The deep, masculine voice jolted Callie. Snapping open her eyes, she stared at a fairly handsome man with wide shoulders and a barrel chest. A warning flashed in her mind.
Did I meet him years ago?
She questioned the familiar, deja vu feeling.

He tipped his black Stetson in a gentlemanly manner. But the sly smile slashing across his face unnerved her. And his dark eyes held a hidden meaning in the murky depths.

Smiling weakly, she rose and sidestepped him.

He followed her. “A shy little thing, aren’t you?” He chuckled, low and deep. “I like that.”

She put a clothes rack between them, idly flipping through the assortment of denim work shirts. “Excuse me, but I’m helping a
close
friend pick out some things.” She turned, and then made her way to another rack a short distance away, hoping he’d get the message and praying that the nearly empty store filled quickly.

She gasped as big, strong hands rested on her waist. Trying to pull away, Callie silently berated herself for turning her back on him.

“You ain’t being nice to me, honey.” He leaned close, too close for Callie’s comfort, and whispered in her ear, “How about you and me going for a little ride in my truck?”

His fingers dug into her sides. She winced at his stronghold and his suffocating nearness. Thinking quickly, she jabbed her elbow into his ribs. The soft flesh covering his middle yielded to her sharp thrust. He grunted audibly and let go.

“What did you do that for?” he choked out, holding his belly.

She skirted him cautiously, careful not to touch any part of him. “Reflex action.” She smiled tightly. “My daddy’s a black belt in karate. He made certain he taught his little girl all the right defense moves. After all, you never know when a lady has to use deadly force to protect herself, now do you?”

He paled considerably. “No harm done, right?” A nervous laugh escaped. “Just being friendly, is all.”

At his obvious discomfort, a mischievous streak lanced through Callie. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were on the welcoming committee for Rosebud County.”

“Callie?” Lance’s high-pitched voice sounded like music.

Callie turned sideways, watching the intruder out of the corner of her eye. Stan and Marvin crowded beside their brother. Jake’s cousins were a very welcome sight.

“We wanted to show you our new duds,” Marvin said, grimacing and walking gingerly in the brand new denim work shirt and stiff jeans.

“You’ll be regular cowboys in no time, fellas.” She chuckled at the look of dismay chasing across Lance’s expressive face.

“Is this who you’ve been waiting for, honey?” That dreadful man wouldn’t leave her alone.

Stan frowned. “Yes. She’s taken, by the way.”

The man’s loud, grating laughter set Callie’s teeth on edge. She tossed him a dark glare, causing him to rope in his glee.

Jake pushed his way through the tiny aisle, clamping a hand on Stan’s shoulder and gently, but firmly, setting him aside. Jake halted by Callie’s side, offering support, unity, and assistance.

Shoving aside the tugging on her heart, she explained about the man pestering her. She felt Jake’s body tense. Slowly, he wrapped a protective hand around her arm. His warm, reassuring touch seeped into her, stealing away the unreasonable disquiet this stranger evoked.

“Hello, Ray.”

“Jake. I didn’t know you were dating anyone.” The stiffness edging his voice pelted the strained atmosphere.

“Callie’s a
very
dear friend.”

“Nice friend you got there, buddy.” His lewd glance gained a scowl from Jake.

“How’s the wife and kids, Ray?”

Shock raced through Callie’s veins. The man had some nerve hitting on her!

“Just fine.” He clenched his jaw, causing a muscle to jump in his cheek. “Hey, you tell my brother I’ll be visiting real soon.”

“Lester’s gonna be too busy to entertain.”

Thick, oppressive tension followed Jake’s words. The hidden meaning wasn’t lost on Callie. This Ray fella wouldn’t be welcomed at the Lazy L anytime soon.

Looking closely at the red flush that crept up the man’s squarish face, Callie noted the slight similarity to Les. But Ray, shorter and broader than Lester, didn’t emulate his brother’s fun, flirtatious manner.

It hit her then where she’d known him from. At seven to Raymond Whitefeather’s fourteen, Callie had run from his merciless teasing and taunting. His mean-spiritedness permeated everything he did and said.

Remembered dread shot through her. Facing him on the fairgrounds at a rodeo nearly incapacitated her. But Jake came to her rescue that last awful time when Raymond chopped off her pigtails with his knife.

Watching Ray leave, Callie breathed a sigh of relief. Turning to her hero from yesteryear, and today, she felt a rush of intense tenderness well up in her chest. “Thanks, Jake. I owe you one.”

Her soft, husky tone brought an ache behind his rib cage.

Jake shrugged, and then reluctantly released Callie, causing the pain to spread to the far regions of his body. “Forget it.” He said it more to himself, trying to erase the churning emotions from the pit of his stomach.

His blood had warmed when he’d touched her, and then went frigid at the knowledge Ray had bothered her. The man deserved to be hanged and quartered for his numerous amorous attentions and subsequent litter of babies. Since a nasty fight years ago, Jake always steered clear of him, until now-until he messed with Callie.

“Hey, Jake, can you help us with picking out some cowboy hats and boots now?” Stan asked, pointing his thumb to the back wall where rows of hats, boots, chaps, belts, and gloves hung.

“Sure thing, kid,” he said, pleased to be dragged away from his troubling thoughts. Callie had a way of stirring the deepest part of him, rendering him flustered with alarming, unknown feelings of longing for what he never wanted.

Lance approached, smiling. “While we’re replacing your hat, Jake, and getting new ones for us, Stan, Marvin, and me-we want to buy Callie a cowboy hat. What do you say, man? After all, she’s almost like one of the family.” He winked at Callie.