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Diana Palmer’s next book in her WYOMING MEN series,
When rancher J.C. Calhoun rescues a lost little girl, he never expects to reunite with his lost love—and confront the harsh truth about their shared past.
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CHAPTER ONE
Colie Thompson was in a mild panic. Her brother Rodney was bringing over his friend J.C. Calhoun. J.C. was thirty-two, pretty much at the end of his Army Reserve service. He and Rodney met in Iraq, almost four years ago. Both men were with the same Army unit. Rodney was serving his first tour of duty. J.C.’s Army Reserve unit had been called up for limited duty, and he was assigned to the same area that Rodney was. In one of those wild coincidences, they started talking and discovered that they both lived in the same Wyoming town, J.C. having taken a job with another Catelow resident, Ren Colter, whom he’d met during his first tour of duty. Rodney looked up to J.C., who was a little older. The older man had been a police officer before he went into the Army the first time, almost twelve years earlier.
Rodney left the Army before his tour of duty was officially up, never saying why. He’d been home for several months. After J.C. finished his overseas duty, he came home with him sometimes, although they’d grown apart since Rodney started a new job. They still went around together, but not often. One memorable visit to the Thompson home was on Colie’s birthday, when J.C. had unexpectedly given her a cat. It was the high point of her recent life. She named the huge gray Siamese cat Big Tom and it slept on her bed every night.
Even though he didn’t come home with Rodney much, Colie often saw J.C. around Catelow, which was a small and very clannish town. There were only a couple of restaurants, and Colie, whose real name was Colleen, worked as a clerk for a law firm downtown. Inevitably, she saw J.C. from time to time, occasionally with her brother. And since he was single, and handsome, and mostly avoided women, he was the subject of much gossip.
He always made time to talk to Colie if he saw her. He was polite, teasing, friendly. He made her glow inside. Once, when he brought Rod home after his car had quit, J.C. had helped her into her jacket when she was going outside to get the mail. Just the touch of his hands was like an explosion of pleasure. The more she saw of him, the more she wanted him.
Rodney had invited J.C. to come to supper before this, but he’d always had an excuse. This time, he accepted. It had been just after Colie had started walking back to the office, in the snow, and J.C. had stopped and given her a ride the rest of the way. Sitting with him, in the cozy warmth of the big black SUV he drove, she’d been hesitant to get out again. They’d talked about the upcoming presidential election, the state of the country, the beauty of Catelow in the snow. He’d teased her about wearing high heels to work instead of sensible boots, with snow already piling up and she’d retorted that boots would hardly compliment the pretty pant suit she was wearing. He’d pursed his lips and looked at her, long and hard, and said Colie would look good in anything. She’d gone inside the law office, reluctantly, flushed and beaming after the unexpected pleasure of his company.
J.C. worked full time locally, but he went back overseas periodically to train troops in Iraq in police procedure. He was supposed to go back in a few months to do it all over again with a new group. J.C. worked as security chief for Ren Colter, who owned a large cattle ranch, Skyhorn, outside Catelow. Ren was ex-military as well, and he had somebody fill in for J.C. while he accommodated a former commander by drilling new recruits.
Giving orders was something J.C. was very good at. He was also gorgeous. He had jet black hair, cut short, and eyes so pale a gray that they glittered like silver. He was tall and muscular, but not like a body builder. He had the physique of a rodeo cowboy, lithe and powerful. Colie liked to just sit and look at him when she had the opportunity. She’d never known anybody quite like him. He had a unique background, about which he rarely spoke. Rodney had told her that J.C.’s father was a member of the Blackfoot nation up in Canada. His mother had been a little red-headed Irish woman. Quite an uncommon pairing, but it had produced a handsome child. J.C. never spoke of his father, Rodney added.
Colie wanted a family of her own, badly. She and Rodney had lost their mother two years previously to bone cancer. It had taken her a long time to die, but even then, she’d been cheerful and upbeat around her children and her husband. Colie’s father was a Methodist minister, a pillar of the community. Everybody loved him, not just his own congregation. They’d loved Colie’s mother, too. The little woman, named Beth Louise, but called Ludie, had always been the first to arrive if there was a sick person who needed caring for or a child who needed a temporary home. She even fostered dogs that were picked up by the local no-kill animal shelter, while they waited for an adoptive family.
All that had passed, along with her. The house was suddenly empty. Jared Thompson, Colie’s father, had been almost suicidally depressed after his wife’s death, but his faith had pulled him through. It was, he told Colie, not right to mourn someone who had lived such a full life and had gone on to a happier, more wonderful place. Death was not the end, for people of faith. They simply had to accept that people died for reasons that were, perhaps, not quite clear to those left behind.
Colie and Rodney had grieved, too. Rodney had been overseas for almost four years, with only brief visits. He couldn’t come home for his mother’s funeral, although he Skyped with his father and sister after the services. He was a sweet, bidable boy until he went into the service. When he came home, he was…different. Colie couldn’t figure out why. He became fixated on fancy cars and designer clothes, neither of which fit in his small budget. He’d obtained a job at the local hardware store when he came home, because it was owned by a friend of the Reverend Thompson. Rodney seemed to be a natural salesman. But he complained all the time about getting minimum wage. He wanted more. He was never satisfied with anything for long.
The one thing that bothered Colie most was that her brother wasn’t quite lucid much of the time. He had red-rimmed eyes and sometimes he staggered. She worried that he might have been hurt overseas and wasn’t telling them. She knew it wasn’t from alcohol, because Rodney almost never took a drink. It was puzzling.
During Rodney’s tour in the Middle East, J.C. and Rodney hung out together when off duty. Rod didn’t write often, but when he did, he mentioned things he and J.C. had done overseas. They went out on the town when Rodney was on liberty. Odd thing about J.C., Rodney had commented. He never drank hard liquor. He’d have the occasional beer, but he didn’t touch the heavy stuff. Like Rodney. But the brother who used to tease her and bring her wildflowers and watch television with her seemed to have gone away. The man who came back from overseas was someone else. Someone with a darkness inside him, a lust for things, for material things.
He’d been vocal about the old things in the house where he lived with his sister and father. It was primitive, he scoffed.
Colie didn’t find it so. It looked lived in. The small house was immaculate, Colie thought as she looked at her surroundings. The sofa had a new cover, a pretty burgundy floral pattern, and her father’s puffy armchair had a solid burgundy cover. The spotless wood floors had area rugs, which were beaten clean by Colie on a regular basis. There were no cobwebs anywhere. The marble-topped coffee table that her father had found at an antique shop graced the living room, where an open fireplace crackled with orange flames and the smell of burning oak.
Colie didn’t look too bad herself, she reflected, glancing in the hall mirror at her wavy collar-length dark brown hair. It never needed curling. It was naturally wavy. She had an oval face, sweet and pleasant, but not beautiful. Her eyes were large and dark green under thick lashes. Her mouth was a perfect bow. She had an hourglass figure, with long legs always clad in denim jeans. She only had a few dresses and a couple of nice pantsuits, which she wore to church and to work at the local attorney’s office where she was a receptionist and typist. Around the house, she wore jeans and boots and pullover sweaters. This one was a nice medium green, long-sleeved and V-necked. It showed off Colie’s small, firm breasts in a nice but flattering way. She never wore low-cut things or suggestive dresses. After all, her father was a minister. She didn’t want to do anything that would embarrass him in front of his congregation. She didn’t even curse.
Rodney did. She was constantly chastising him about it.
Just as she thought it, he walked in the door, stomping snow off his big boots on the front porch as he stood in the open doorway, letting in a flurry. He closed it quickly behind him.
“Damn, it’s cold out!” he swore. “Snowing like a son of a…”
She interrupted him. “Will you stop, that? Daddy’s a minister,” she groaned. “Rodney, you’re such a pain!”
He had her dark green eyes, but his hair was straight and thick and a shade lighter than hers. He was tall, with perfect teeth and a rakish smile. No choirboy, Rodney, he was always in trouble throughout high school. Presumably, he’d been better behaved in the military, since he was discharged early.
“Daddy can curse,” he retorted. “Haven’t you heard him?”
“Yes, Rodney, he says “chicken feathers!” That’s how he curses.” She glowered at him. “That’s not what you’re saying when you lose your temper.” He lost it a lot lately, too.
He shrugged her off. “I have issues,” he said easily. “I’m working on it. You have to remember that I’ve been around soldiers for several years, and in combat.”
“I try to take that into account,” she said. “But couldn’t you tone it down, just a little bit? For Daddy’s sake?”
He made a face at her. “God, you’re hard to live up to, do you know that?” he sighed, exasperated. “You’ve never put a foot out of line. Never had a parking ticket, never had a speeding ticket, never even jaywalked! What a paragon to try to live up to!”
She grimaced. “I just behave the way Mama taught me.” The thought made her sad. “Don’t you miss her?”
He nodded. “She was the kindest woman I’ve ever known. Well, besides you,” he chuckled and hugged her, and just for a minute, he was the big brother she’d adored. “You’re just the best, Sis.”
She hugged him back. “I love you, too.” She sniffed and her nose wrinkled as she drew back. “Rodney, what’s that smell?” she asked, frowning as she sniffed him again. “It’s like tobacco, but not.”
He let her go and averted his eyes. “Just cigarette smoke. Some of that imported stuff. I have a friend who gets them.”
“Not J.C. He doesn’t smoke,” she said, curious.
“Not J.C.,” he agreed. “This is a guy I know from Jackson Hole. He and I pal around sometimes.”
“Oh.” She smiled. “Sorry. I thought it was marijuana.”
He raised both eyebrows. “If I smoked marijuana in this house, Daddy would call Sheriff Cody Banks and have him lock me up in the county detention center in a heartbeat! You know that!”
“Well, yes, I do.” She didn’t add that plenty of men did smoke that awful stuff, and managed to keep their parents from suspecting. She’d had a girlfriend in high school who even bragged about it.
Colie had never used drugs of any sort, especially not any kind that had to be smoked. She had weak lungs. She didn’t smoke, period.
“Didn’t you say J.C. was coming to supper?” she asked after a minute, trying not to sound as excited as she felt.
“He is,” Rodney said, pursing his lips as he saw the excitement she was trying so hard to hide. She was an open book, especially about his best friend. “He’ll be here in a few minutes. He had to run an errand for Ren.”
“Oh. Okay. I’ve still got leftover turkey from Thanksgiving that we have to eat, and mashed potatoes and a green salad, with apple pie for dessert. He does like turkey, doesn’t he?” she added worriedly.
“He’s not fussy about food,” he said, smiling down at her. “Actually, he said snake wasn’t bad if you had enough pepper….”
“Yuck!” she burst out.
“He was spec ops, back when he was in the Army,” he laughed. “Those guys can eat anything, and have, when they’re out on a mission. Bugs, snakes, whatever they can catch. There was this guy attached to his and Ren’s unit overseas, years ago, who cooked an old cat for them when they couldn’t find anything else.”
“Oh, that’s heartless,” she said, wincing.
“It was a very old cat,” he replied. “They were starving.” He hesitated. “He said it tasted awful, and they got sick.”
“Good!” she returned enthusiastically.
He laughed and hugged her again. “You softie,” he mused. “You’re just like Mama. She loved her cats.” He frowned, looking around. “Where’s Big Tom?”
“Out back, chasing rabbits,” she said. The big seal-point Siamese cat loved the outdoors. He slept inside at night, because there were predators all around, including bears and foxes and wolves. The Thompson’s home was outside Catelow, nestled in a forest of lodgepole pines, with no really close neighbors except Ren Colter. Ren’s ranch ran right up to the Thompson property line, but he didn’t run cattle close enough to worry any of the residents.
“Funny,” Rodney mused, thinking about big Tom.
“What is?”
“J.C. giving you a cat,” he remarked.
It had touched Colie, that unusual gift from J.C., who was polite, but never made a move toward her, to her sorrow. It had been a late birthday present, the cat he’d found wandering around near his cabin. He’d had the vet clean him up and give him his shots, and he’d brought him over to Colie, who was a sucker for stray animals. Big Tom turned out to be housebroken and he never used his claws on the furniture. He was a lot of company for Colie while her father was visiting his congregation, which he did often. Rodney had been away in the military, so there was just Colie in the small house. Well, Colie and Big Tom.
“He’s a very nice cat,” she remarked.
Rodney laughed. “J.C.’s not big on animals, although he likes them. He’s good with cattle. Even Willis’s wolf will let him pet him. That’s an accomplishment, believe me,” he added with a huff. “Damned thing nearly took my hand off when I tried it….”
“Rodney!”
He ground his teeth. “Oh, hell.”
“Rodney!”
He let out a breath. “Set up a jar,” he said with resignation, “and I’ll put a nickel in it every time I forget.”
“If I do that, we can have a Tahiti vacation in a month,” she accused.
He laughed. “Not nice.”
“I’ll find a big jar,” she returned. “And you’ll put a quarter in. Every time.”
He drew in a long breath and just smiled. “Okay, Joan of Arc.”
She chuckled and walked back to the kitchen to check on her apple pie in the oven.
****
J.C. looked incredibly handsome in a shepherd’s coat, jeans and boots, with snow dusting his thick, black, uncovered hair.
“You never wear a hat,” Colie mused, trying not to let her hands tremble as she took the coat to hang up for him. He was so tall that she had to stand on her tiptoes to pull it back off his shoulders.
“I hate hats,” he remarked. He glanced at her as she put the coat on the rack in the hall, his pale gray eyes narrow and appraising on her slender, sexy body. She dressed like a lady, but he knew all about women who put on their best behavior around company. She was just out of school; college he was certain, because she had to be at least twenty-two or twenty-three. Catelow had several thousand people, and J.C. didn’t mix with them. He only knew what Rodney told him about his sister. And that wasn’t much.
“I noticed,” Colie said as she turned, smiling.
His eyes flickered down to her pert breasts and he fought down a raging hunger that he hadn’t felt in a long time. He had women, but this one stirred him in a different way. He couldn’t explain how, exactly. It irritated him and he scowled.
“It wasn’t a complaint,” Colie added quickly, not understanding the scowl.
He shrugged. “No problem. What are we eating?”
“Leftover turkey with cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, salad and apple pie.” She hesitated, insecure. “Is that okay?”
He smiled, his perfect white teeth visible under chiseled, sensuous lips. “It’s great. I love turkey.” He chuckled. “I like chicken, too, although I usually get mine in a bucket.”
Her eyes widened. “You put it in a pail, like you milk cows with?” she asked, shocked.
He glowered at her. “There’s this chicken place. They sell you chicken and biscuits and sides…”
She went red as fire. “Oh, gosh, sorry, wasn’t thinking,” she stammered. “Let’s go in! Daddy’s already at the table.”
Rodney went ahead, but J.C. slid a long finger inside the back of Colie’s sweater and gently stopped her. He moved forward, so that she could feel the heat and power of him at her back in a way that made her heart run wild, her knees shiver. “I was teasing,” he whispered right next to her ear. His lips brushed it.
Her intake of breath was visible. Her whole body felt shaky.
His big hands caught her shoulders and held her there while his lips traveled down the side of her throat in a lazy, whispery caress that caused her to melt inside.
“Do you like movies?” he whispered.
“Well, yes…”
“There’s a new comedy at the theater Saturday. Go with me. We’ll have supper at the fish place on the way.”
She turned, shocked. “You…you want to go out with me?” she asked, her green eyes wide and full of delight.
He smiled slowly. “Yes. I want to go out with you.”
“Saturday.”
He nodded.
“What time?”
“We’ll leave about five.”
“That would be lovely,” she said, drowning in his eyes, on fire with the joy he’d just kindled in her with the unexpected invitation.
“Lovely,” he murmured, but he was looking at her mouth.
“Colie? Supper?” her father’s amused voice floated out from the dining room.
“Supper.” She was dazed. “Oh. Supper! Yes! Coming!”
J.C. followed close behind her, his smile as smug and arrogant as the look on his face. Colie wanted him. He knew it without a word being spoken.
He seated Colie, to her amazement, and then pulled out a chair for himself.
“Good to have you with us, J.C.,” the reverend said gently. “Say grace, Colie, if you please,” he added.
J.C. looked stunned as the others bowed their heads and Colie mumbled a prayer. He wasn’t much on religion, but he did bow his head. When in Rome…
****
It was a pleasant meal. Reverend Thompson seemed shocked at J.C.’s knowledge of biblical history as he mentioned a recent dig in Israel that had turned up some new relics of antiquity, and J.C. remarked on it with some authority.
“My mother was from southern Ireland. Catholic,” he added quietly. “She was forever asking the local priest to loan her books on archaeology. It was a passion of his.”
“She couldn’t get them off the internet?” Rodney queried.
J.C. laughed. “We lived in the Yukon, Rod,” he told him with some amusement. “We didn’t have television or the internet.”
“No TV?” Rodney exclaimed. “What did you do for fun?”
“Hunted, fished, helped chop firewood, learned foreign languages from my neighbors. Read,” he added. “I still don’t watch television. I don’t own one.”
“Do you hear that?” Reverend Thompson interjected, pointing to J.C. “That’s how people become intelligent, not from watching people take off their clothing and use foul language on television!”
“It’s his soapbox,” Rodney said complacently. “He only lets me have satellite because I help pay for it.”
“The world is wicked,” the reverend said heavily. “So much immorality. It’s like fighting a tsunami.”
“There, there, Daddy, you do your part to stop it,” Colie said gently, and smiled.
He smiled back. “You’re my legacy, sweetheart,” he said. “You’re so like your mother. She was a gentle woman. She never went with the crowd.”
“I hate crowds,” Colie said.
“Me, too,” Rodney added.
J.C. just stared into space. “I hate people. The best of them will turn on you, given the opportunity.”
“Son, that’s a very harsh attitude,” the reverend said gently.
J.C. finished his chicken and sipped black coffee. “Sorry. We’re the products of our environment, as much as our genetics.” He glanced at the older man with dead eyes. “I’ve been sold out by the people I loved most. It doesn’t encourage trust.”
“You have to consider that we all have a purpose,” the reverend said solemnly. “I’ve heard it said that people come into our lives when they do, for a reason. Some bring out good qualities in us, some bring out bad. Life is a test.”
“If it is, I’ve sure failed it already,” Rodney sighed. He nodded toward Colie. “She’s got a big jar. Every time I swear, I have to put in a quarter. I’ll be bankrupt in days!” he moaned.
Reverend Thompson laughed whole heartedly. “Now, that’s creative thinking, my girl!”
“I’d take a bow, but the pie would get cold,” she teased, as she served it up.
She noticed that J.C. seemed to love his. He glanced at her, saw her watching him, and grinned. She flushed and fumbled with her fork.
The reverend watched the byplay with amusement and concern. Colie was an innocent. He knew things about J.C., who was vocal about his distaste for family life and children. Colie would want marriage and kids. J.C. wouldn’t. It was a mismatch that could lead to tragedy for his daughter. He saw the danger ahead and wished he could stop it.
They had relatives in Comanche Wells, Texas, a small town in Jacobs County. He could send Colie there. She’d be away from J.C…
Even as he thought it, he realized how impractical it was. Colie had a good job. She loved Catelow. And if her continual sighing over J.C. Calhoun was any indication, she was already halfway in love. She’d never dated much, except for an occasional double date with an older girlfriend who’d later married and moved to Billings. She didn’t go out these days. She worked and cooked and cleaned and read books. Even the reverend realized it wasn’t much of a life for a young woman, who should be out learning about life.
It was just that she was going to learn things that he disapproved of. He looked at J.C., saw the way the man was watching Colie, and something inside him tightened like a rope around his throat. He averted his eyes. He didn’t know what to do. He only knew that Colie was headed for disaster.
****
Colie walked J.C. out onto the porch, where a small light burned overhead. Snow was falling softly.
“They say we’re looking at six inches of snow,” she remarked with a long sigh.
He smiled. “I can drive in six feet of snow,” he mused. “If the theater is open, we’ll get there. If it isn’t, you can come home with me and I’ll teach you how to play chess.”
Her lips parted on a rush of excitement. He really wanted to be with her. He wasn’t teasing. She looked up into narrow, pale silver eyes and wanted nothing more in the world than to be in his arms.
He saw the look. It amused him. She had her act down pat. Playing innocent, showing all the right sort of excitement for a woman headed for her first love affair. He didn’t believe what he was seeing. He’d had too many experienced women tease him with displays of innocence, only to become wildcats once he had them in bed. It was a trust issue, he supposed. He didn’t trust women. He had good reason not to.
But he was willing to play along. In fact, he knew tricks that Colie might not know. He moved closer, taking her gently by the waist and holding her away from him just a little.
“You’ll get cold,” he whispered, bending his head so that his mouth was just above hers, not touching, but taunting.
“It’s not that cold,” she whispered back, her voice unsteady as she looked up at his mouth, focused on it with all the pent up hunger she’d been saving for the right man, the right time, the right place.
“Isn’t it?” His voice was deep, dark velvet. He brushed his nose against hers, while his big hands smoothed up and down her ribcage, almost brushing her taut breasts, but not touching.
Her lips parted. They felt swollen. She felt swollen all over. She didn’t know enough about men to understand what he was doing to her. It was a game. A very old game. Tease and retreat, to make a woman hungry for more.
“I have to go,” he whispered, his breath mingling with hers, he was so close.
“Do you?” She was standing on her tiptoes now, almost begging for the hard, chiseled mouth so close to hers. She could almost taste the coffee on it.
“I do.” He brushed his nose against hers again, teased her mouth without touching it, and suddenly put her away from him. “Don’t stay out here. You’ll catch cold.”
“O…okay,” she said. She was disappointed, frustrated.
He saw that. It delighted him. He smiled at her. “I’ll see you Saturday. Five sharp.”
She nodded. “Five sharp.”
“Goodnight, Colie.”
He went down the steps before she could reply and back to his black SUV. He got in, started the engine, backed out and drove away. He didn’t look back. Not once.
****
Colie went back inside, frustrated and cold. Why hadn’t he kissed her? She knew he wanted to. His eyes had been hungry as they stared at her parted lips. But he’d pushed her away. Why?
She wished she had a really close girlfriend, somebody she could trust, to talk to about men and their reactions. Well, there was Lucy, at work, the closest thing she had to a friend. But she’d be too embarrassed to ask Lucy, who was married, questions about men and sensual techniques. Lucy would know why she wanted to know, and she’d tease Colie, who was too shy to invite the attention. Still, she wondered why J.C. had been so hesitant to kiss her, when she knew he wanted to. Muffled gossip, movies and explicit television shows hadn’t really educated her about how men felt and why they behaved in odd ways.
She started clearing the dining room table.
“J.C. get off all right?” her father asked.
She nodded and smiled. “It’s snowing again.”
“I noticed.” He was still sitting at the table, with his second cup of black coffee. He took a breath. “Colie, I know how you feel about J.C.,” he said unexpectedly. “But you have to remember that he’s not a marrying man.”
She stopped what she was doing and looked at him. Her expression made him wince.
“You’ve never really been exposed to anybody like him,” her father continued quietly. “Most of the boys you dated were like you, innocent and out of touch with the modern world. J.C. has seen the elephant, as the old-time cowboys used to say. He’s well-traveled and he’s lived among violent men.”
“I know all that, Daddy,” she said softly. “It’s just that…” She bit her lower lip. “I’ve never felt like this.”
“You’re nineteen,” he replied. “Such feelings are natural. But you should also remember that despite what you see in social media, people of faith live by certain rules. Ours teaches that we get married, then we have children. We don’t encourage intimacy outside marriage.”
“I remember.”
“It’s natural to feel such things. We’re human, after all. But just because a lot of people do something immoral, that doesn’t make it right. Any man who truly loves you will want to marry you, Colie, have kids with you, go to church with you. If you interact with a man who has no faith, you risk falling into the same trap that many young women do. I’ve seen the result of broken relationships where illegitimate children were involved. It is not something I want my daughter to experience.”
She wanted to mention that there was such a thing as birth control, but she bit her lip. Her father, like many of his congregation, saw things in a different light than the rest of the world. He was out of touch with what was natural for young women today.
She wanted J.C. Why was it so wrong to sleep with someone you loved? It was as natural as breathing. At least, she imagined it was. She’d never been intimate with anyone. One date had fumbled under her blouse, but his efforts to undress her had been interrupted and Colie hadn’t been sorry. She was curious, even though the boy hadn’t stirred her with his kisses.
J.C., on the other hand, made her wild for something she’d never had. She wanted him. Her body burned, for the first time. He felt the same thing for her, she was sure of it. Except, she didn’t understand why he’d drawn back so suddenly, why he hadn’t kissed her. It was disturbing.
“Think of your mother,” the reverend added, when he saw that his arguments were having no effect.
She lifted her eyes. “Mama?”
“She was the most moral human being I ever knew,” he said. “She waited for marriage. So did I, Colie,” he added surprisingly. “I loved her almost beyond bearing.” He lowered his eyes. “Life without her would be empty, except for my faith and my work. I carry on, because that’s what she’d want me to do.” He looked up. “She’d expect you to live a moral life.”
Yes, she would, Colie agreed silently. But perhaps her mother hadn’t been as hungry as Colie was, as much in love. Her parents had been together in a different time, when things were less permissive in small towns. Goodness, half the young people in town were in relationships. Few of them actually married.
“If you live with someone, you get to know them and you find out if you’re suited enough to get married,” she ventured without looking at him.
He drew in a slow breath and sipped his coffee. “It’s your life, Colie,” he said gently. “You’re a grown woman. I can’t tell you how to live. I can only tell you that many people who live in an open relationship don’t eventually marry. There’s no real commitment. Not like there is in marriage, where you bring children into the world and raise them. J.C. doesn’t want children.”
“He could change his mind,” she said.
“He could. But I doubt he will. He’s how old, thirty-two? If he still feels that way, at his age, he’s unlikely to change. There’s something else,” he added quietly. “You can’t involve yourself with someone with the idea that you can change things about them that you don’t like. People don’t change. Bad habits only grow worse.”
“Not liking children,” she began, moving silverware around on an empty plate. “That might change, if he had a child.”
He closed his eyes and winced.
Colie saw that. It wounded her. “Daddy, I can’t help how I feel,” she ground out. “I’m crazy about him!”
He drew in a long breath. “I know.” He looked up at her and saw her stubborn resolve. He finished his coffee and got to his feet. He brushed a kiss against her cheek. “I’ll always be here for you. Always. No matter what you do. I’m your father. I will always love you.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. She put down the plates and hugged him, tears bleeding from her eyes.
He patted her on the back and kissed her hair, as he had when she was very small, and hurt, and she ran to him for comfort. It had always been like that. She loved her mother very much, but she was daddy’s girl.
“It will all work out,” he said, trying to reassure both of them.
“Of course it will,” she replied, fighting more tears.
CHAPTER TWO
Colie was dressed and ready to go by three o’clock on Saturday, and so nervous that she could hardly settle anywhere. J.C. had said they’d eat at the fish place, but she didn’t know if he’d want her to wear a nice dress or jeans or what. She’d never seen him in a suit or even a conventional jacket, so she assumed he’d wear jeans, as he always did.
So she wore jeans, nicely laundered, with lace inserts on the side from the hem up to the knee, with a pretty white blouse, also with lace inserts. Against her dark hair and light olive skin, she looked exotic. The excitement made her green eyes sparkle. She was almost pretty, even without gobs of makeup, which she detested. She had a naturally smooth complexion, which she touched up with just a little face powder and a glossy lipstick. She couldn’t abide mascara. In fact, she was allergic to most of it. But she had thick, black lashes that looked as if she used it.
Her hair had a natural wave. All she did was wash it and comb it. She grinned at herself in the mirror. She didn’t look half bad, she thought. Maybe J.C. would kiss her. She caught her breath at the anticipated pleasure. J.C. had been around. He’d know how to kiss. Hopefully, he’d teach her, because she hadn’t a clue.
“Primping?” Rodney teased as he joined her in the hall. “You look fine, Sis.”
She laughed. “Thanks.”
“You know, J.C. isn’t big on family,” he said unexpectedly. “He doesn’t have any left. His mother is dead, and he and his father don’t speak. I’m not sure he even knows where his old man is.”
She turned and looked up at him. “Why?”
“He doesn’t talk about it,” he said. “He let something drop, just once, about a family that adopted him when he was ten. A man and wife, up in the Yukon. She was a teacher. So was his mother, so maybe they knew each other or something. Anyway, he lived with them for a while. Tragic thing, there was a fire. Both of them died. J.C.’s been alone for a long time.”
“He has you,” she said.
“We’re not that close,” he replied. “You can’t get close to him. He doesn’t trust people. He doesn’t share anything.” He frowned. “I know how you feel. Maybe that could change,” he added when he saw her pained expression. “Just, don’t let him hurt you, okay?”
“What do you mean?”
“He had this really bad experience with a woman. He didn’t tell me. I heard it from one of the guys he taught with overseas, who was in basic training with him. She was a call girl. He didn’t know. At that time, he’d had very little to do with women and he was naive. He fell head over heels for her. Then he heard her talking about him to another man, laughing at how he’d bought her so many fancy things and he thought she was innocent. She said she’d worked at that pose for years, because so many of her paying customers liked it. J.C. went wild. They said he wrecked a bar and put another man in the hospital afterwards. When he left the military, the guy said, he was so different that he hardly knew him anymore,” he added quietly. “He’s had some knocks.”
“Poor guy,” she said softly.
“So, forewarned is forearmed,” he added. “J.C.’s attitude toward women changed after that. He’s no playboy, but he does have women.”
She ground her teeth together. She’d suspected it, but she was learning things about J.C. that were very disturbing. “A lot of men are that way. Aren’t they? They still get married and have families….”
“Don’t count on it,” he returned. “J.C. does a job that invites violence, haven’t you noticed? He heads up security for Ren’s ranch, and he goes overseas all the time to help train policemen, in areas where insurgency is high. He likes risk. That doesn’t mesh with grammar schools and birthday parties, sweet girl.”
She was feeling sicker by the minute.
Rodney saw that and winced. “I know how you feel about him,” he said in a gentler tone. “That’s why I’m saying these things. You already know that Daddy doesn’t move with the times. He lives in a fantasy world of happy ever after, because he and Mama had that. It doesn’t work that way for most people. We take what we can get and move on.”
“You mean, we enjoy what we can and don’t look ahead,” she said in a hollow tone.
“Something like that.” He drew in a breath. “Colie, I’m not trying to hurt you. I just want you to know what you’re up against. J.C.’s my friend. But you’re my sister. He doesn’t respect women. Not anymore.”
She moved her shoulder restlessly. “You think I shouldn’t go out with him.”
He hesitated. There were reasons why he wanted to keep her away from his best friend that had nothing to do with her well-being. J.C. was a stickler for law and order. Rodney was into some very bad things. J.C. knew that he used drugs, and it was why they didn’t spend as much time together as they had overseas. He knew other things about Rodney that he didn’t want his father finding out, too. J.C. wouldn’t rat him out because he didn’t know what was really going on. But his baby sister would, if she had any inkling. He needed to prevent her from becoming close to his friend.
On the other hand, he cared about her, in his way. “Honey, you do what you think is right,” he said after a minute. “I’m on your side. Whatever you decide to do. Okay?”
She hugged him impulsively, her cheek resting on his chest so that she missed the agonized look on his face.
“Thanks, Rod.” She drew back. “Daddy said he’d always be here for me, whatever happened.” She looked up. “He thinks I can’t resist J.C.”
“No woman can resist him, if he wants her,” he said. He caught himself and clenched his teeth.
“It’s okay,” she said, forcing a smile. “He likes variety, they say.”
“He does, now,” he replied. “Before, that guy told me, he was Mr. Conventional. That changed after the call girl took him for the ride of his life.”
“Somebody should give her a taste of her own medicine.”
“Women like that don’t feel anything, honey,” Rodney told her. “They’re cold as ice inside. A woman who prostitutes herself usually does it because it’s easy money; maybe there are control issues as well. It gives a woman power over a man, when she sells a service.”
She just nodded. It was a world she’d never seen.
“Maybe you’ll change J.C. back to the way he was,” he said gently. “Who knows?”
She smiled. “Right. Who knows?” She sniffed him. “Honestly, Rod, you reek of smoke…!”
“My buddy from Jackson Hole came up to visit. He’s staying at a local motel. I have to go see him tonight, so I’ll be late. Very late. We’re talking to another man he knows, from the west coast.”
She frowned. It sounded odd.
“Hardware store business,” he said quickly. “It’s samples of tools.”
“Oh! I see.” She laughed and turned away. She missed Rodney’s quickly erased look of guilt.
****
J.C., as she’d suspected, was wearing jeans with hand-tooled boots and a long-sleeved blue plaid shirt and a shepherd’s coat. He smiled when he saw her pretty but casual clothing.
“I hoped you’d realize it isn’t a formal date,” he chuckled. “I should have said so.”
“Oh, it’s okay,” she assured him. “I read minds.”
His dark eyebrows arched.
“Really,” she said, green eyes sparkling.
“If you say so,” he returned. “Ready to go?”
“Oh, yes.”
Her father came out into the hall, glanced at J.C. and smiled. He had a book in his hands. “Have fun. Don’t be too late, Colie, please?”
“I won’t, Daddy.” She kissed him. He smiled, but there was concern in his whole look as he turned back to his study. He hadn’t said a word to J.C.
“Daddy’s not comfortable with people,” Colie defended him when they were settled in J.C.’s big black SUV headed for town. “It’s funny, for a minister, because he has to be available to his congregation when they need counseling or comfort.”
“I noticed.”
“It isn’t that he doesn’t like you.” She was trying valiantly to explain something that wasn’t really explainable.
He glanced at her and smiled. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “Don’t sweat it.”
She smiled. “Okay.”
“Do you like fish?”
“Oh, yes. Fried, poached, grilled, any way at all. Do you?”
He chuckled. “I grew up in the Yukon. There are lakes and rivers everywhere. My grandfather taught me to fish when I was about four years old.”
She noticed that he didn’t speak of his father, and she recalled what Rodney had told her. “My grandfathers were both dead when I was born,” she said. “I only had one grandmother living, and she died when I was in grammar school.”
“That’s sad. I had my grandfather until my mother died. He was a grand old fellow. Blackfoot,” he added with a smile. “His family came from Calgary.” He noticed her puzzlement. “It’s in British Columbia. Northwest Canada. Have you ever heard of the Calgary Stampede? It’s a rodeo they hold every year. My granddad rode in it.”
“Gosh! Yes, I’ve heard of that.”
“My father didn’t care much for rodeo, but he was bulldogging with Grandad when he saw a pretty little red-headed Irish woman in the stands, cheering him on. He found her after the event and started talking to her. He was fascinated with her coloring. She was an anthropology student, and she was fascinated with First Nation people, like my father. They dated for a week and got married.”
“You had a red-headed mother?” she asked, staring at him. His hair was coal black, his eyes that odd, beautiful shade of pale silver.
He chuckled. “I did. It doesn’t show, does it?”
“Not really.”
“I get my eyes from her. They were pale gray, like mine.”
“You loved her.”
He stared ahead at the snow-lined road. “Very much. She was always there for me. She took terrible chances to keep me safe.” He drew in a long breath. He’d never spoken of these things, even to Rodney. There was something about Colie that drew his confidence. “I lost her when I was ten. I went to live with an adoptive family.” He forced a smile. “They were good, kind people. They had no kids of their own, so I was pretty much spoiled rotten.” His face hardened. “They died in a fire. I was just getting home from school. I got there just before the ambulances and fire trucks did.” He averted his eyes. The memory still hurt. “I couldn’t get them out. The whole structure was involved by then.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said gently.
The sympathy twisted something inside him, something he’d hidden for years. “I couldn’t get past the flames at the front door,” he gritted. “I tried. A neighbor pulled me back and sat on me until the fire trucks got the hoses going. They were good people.”
Her face contorted. She could only imagine standing helplessly by while people she loved died.
He glanced at her, saw the sympathy that wasn’t feigned. “You don’t push, do you?” he asked after a few seconds, his attention turning back to the road. “You just let people talk when they want to.”
She smiled sadly. “I’m not interesting,” she said. “I listen more than I talk.”
“I noticed that about you, when I first met you. Rod used to talk about his kid sister who sat and daydreamed and played guitar. You still play?”
“Not often. I don’t practice as much as I used to. I have a full-time job and I’m taking night courses in business two days a week.”
“You work for Wentworth and Tartaglia, don’t you?” he asked, naming a well-known law firm in Catelow.
“I do. I went to work for them just out of high school.”
“That was a while back, I guess,” he chuckled.
It was six months, but he didn’t know her real age, apparently. Rod must not have mentioned it. She wasn’t going to, either. If he knew she was barely nineteen, he might not want to take her out. He was thirty-two; Rod had told her. Just as well to let him think she was more mature than she was. She couldn’t bear the thought that he might not want to keep dating her.
“I guess,” she replied with a smile.
He settled down. He’d never asked Rod how old his baby sister was. He knew there were a few years between them, but not how many. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t about to get serious. He just wanted someone cute and responsive to spend time with. She didn’t seem the sort of woman who’d cling, and that suited him very well.
****
The fish place was crowded, but J.C. found them a table that was just being vacated and captured it before another young couple. They laughed as he grinned at them.
“Wow,” Colie mused, letting him seat her. “That was a nice takeover.”
“Thanks. I can do it with enemy positions, too,” he chuckled.
She cocked her head and laughed. “You really do have a flair for it.”
“I’m hungry and the place is crowded. What do you see that you like?”
She wanted to say, “you,” but she was far too shy to flirt overtly. She settled down with the menu and made her choices.
****
They ate in a comfortable silence.
“Do you fish?” he asked.
She paused with her fork in midair. “Well, yes,” she said. “I used to go with Daddy. We’d sit on the river bank for hours waiting for something to bite. Not much ever did.”
“Come spring, I’ll take you fishing.”
Her heart jumped. That was a long-term invitation. She was touched. “I’d love that,” she said, with her heart in the eyes that slid over his face like exploring hands.
“Me, too,” he said softly.
He held her gaze for so long that her heart ran wild and her fingers trembled. She dropped the fork into her plate with a clatter that stunned her. She dived for it, flushing.
He chuckled. Her headlong reaction to him was delicious. He couldn’t remember a time when a woman had appealed to him so much in ways beyond the purely physical. He hated the memory of the call girl who’d shattered his pride and his ego. But that was in the days before he became experienced and sophisticated. That was before he learned to turn the tables, to make women beg for him and then walk away from them.
His pale gray eyes narrowed on Colie’s face. Could he do that to her? Make her beg, make her do anything he liked--and then just walk away? The thought of giving her up was troubling, even at this very early stage in their relationship. Better not to dwell on it. Live for the moment.
He smiled at her. “How’s the fish?” he asked, to relax the tension.
“It’s great,” she said. “I love the French fries, too. They make them fresh. No frozen stuff here.”
“I noticed. I’m partial to a good French fry.”
“I make them for Daddy sometimes. He likes fish and chips.”
“Your father doesn’t like me.”
“It’s not that.” She struggled for words. “He’s protective of me. He always has been. I go to Sunday school and church, I sing in the choir, I teach primary classes in Sunday school.” She gnawed her lower lip. “I guess that sounds painfully conservative to someone like you, who’s traveled and sophisticated. But around here, it’s pretty much the normal thing. Not everyone is conservative,” she confided. “We have people in our congregation who live together and aren’t married, we have people who do drugs, we have people who have babies out of wedlock, stuff like that. Daddy never judges, he just tries to help.”
His eyes fell to his plate. He wasn’t in the market for a wife. Did she know?
“I know you’re not the settling-down kind, J.C.,” she said out of the blue. “But I like going around with you.”
His eyes lifted. He laughed shortly. “You really do read minds, don’t you?”
She grinned, green eyes twinkling. “I tell fortunes, too, but not where Daddy can hear me,” she whispered. “He thinks it’s witchcraft!”
He grinned back. “My father’s mother could see far,” he said. “She had visions. I suppose a doctor might say she had aura from migraines and was hallucinating, but her visions were pretty accurate. She saw the future.”
“Did she ever tell yours?”
He nodded. He scowled as he finished his meal and lifted the coffee cup with cooling black coffee to chiseled, sensuous lips. “Yes, but it made no real sense.”
“What did she say?”
He put the cup down. “She said that one day I’d want something out of my reach, that I’d make bad decisions and cause a tragedy that would hurt me as much as it hurt the other person. She said that a third person would suffer the most for it.” He paused and then laughed at her puzzled expression. “Sometimes she was vague. I was very young at the time, too. She said that I was too young to understand what she was telling me.” His face hardened. “I lost her at the same time I lost my mother. I lost touch with my grandfather. By the time I was old enough to search for him, he was long dead.”
“I’m really sorry,” she said quietly. “I know how it feels to lose people you love. At least, I still have Daddy and Rod.”
He understood what she wasn’t saying. She was saying that J.C. had nobody. She was right.
His big hand reached for hers and closed over it. “You have a knack for pulling painful memories out of me,” he said quietly. “I’m not sure I like it.”
She felt her heart soaring at the touch of his hand on hers. It was like tiny electric shocks running through her. She loved the way it felt to hold hands. “You don’t let people get close. I’m that way,” she confessed hesitantly. “But we’re different, because I trust people and you don’t. I’m shy, so I keep to myself.”
His thumb smoothed over her soft, damp palm. He studied her quietly. “I enjoy my own company.”
She nodded. “So do I.”
“But I enjoy yours as well.”
She smiled. She beamed. “Really?”
“Really.” His fingers tightened. “We’ll have to do this again.”
“That would be nice.”
“Dessert?”
“I don’t really like sweets,” she confessed.
He chuckled. “Something else in common. Okay. Movie next.” He picked up the check, pulled out her chair, and they left.
****
The movie was funny. Colie thought she’d probably have enjoyed it, but her whole body was involved with the feel of J.C.’s arm around her in the back of the theater, in one of the couple seats. His fingers brushed lazily over her throat, her shoulder, down to her ribcage, in light, undemanding brushes that made her heart race, made her body feel swollen and hungry.
His cheek rested on her dark hair while they watched the screen. The theater wasn’t crowded, despite the great reviews the movie had gotten. There was an usher. He went up and down the aisles and left.
“Alone at last,” J.C. teased at her ear, and his lips traveled down her neck to where it joined her shoulder, under the lacy blouse.
She felt just the tip of his tongue there and she shivered. She’d never had such a headlong physical reaction to any man she’d ever known. The boys in her circle of friends were just that: boys. This was an experienced man, and she knew that if he ever turned up the heat, there would be no resisting him.
J.C. knew that, too. It should have pleased him. It didn’t. She wasn’t the sort of woman he was used to these days. She was like his grandmother. His mother. They were conservative, too. Neither of them had ever been unfaithful to their mates. His mother once spoke of being so naive that she hardly knew how to kiss when she married his father. They were women of faith, although his mother had been Catholic and his grandmother a practitioner of her native religion. They were the sort of women who loved their men and had families with them. J.C. didn’t want any part of that.
But he loved the feel of Colie’s soft body beside him. He wanted her, desperately. There were so many reasons why he should just walk away, cut this off now, while there was still time.
Her cheek moved against his hair. He could almost feel her heart beating. Her breath was shallow and quick. She was trembling.
He had to fight the surging need to push her down on the floor and have her right there. It was the first time in his life he’d ever wanted anyone that badly.
Because it shocked him, he drew away a little. He had to slow things down. He needed time to think.
She looked lost when he moved away. He caught her hand in his and held it tight, tight.
She relaxed. It was as if he was comforting her, cooling things down. She appreciated it, because she’d sensed his need. Perhaps he’d been alone too long, she thought, and he was hungry. That disturbed her. She couldn’t do what he wanted, not without some sort of commitment. She couldn’t shame her father in a town so small that gossip ran rampant.
She forced a smile and tried to concentrate on the movie.
****
J.C. drove her home, still holding her hand. He liked her a lot, but he was getting cold feet. This was going to be a mistake if he let it continue. He should have left her alone. She was getting emotionally involved and he couldn’t afford this. He liked his freedom too much.
He walked her to her door. “It was a pretty good movie.”
“Yes, it was,” she agreed, thinking privately that she couldn’t remember a single scene.
He turned her to him and he was solemn in the porch light. “It’s unwise to start things you can’t finish,” he said after a minute.
Her heart sank, but she understood. He didn’t want involvement. She’d known that. It still hurt.
She forced a smile. “Still, it was nice. Fish and a movie.”
He nodded. He looked troubled. His big hand touched her cheek, felt its warmth, its smooth contours.
“You live in a conservative household,” he began. “You work at a conventional job. I don’t. I like risk…”
She reached up and put her fingers over his mouth. “You don’t have to say it, J.C.,” she said softly. “I understand.”
He caught the fingers and kissed them hungrily. Then he put them away. “You’re a nice woman,” he said after a minute.
“Thanks.”
“It wasn’t a compliment,” he said sardonically.
She laughed.
He drew in a breath and shook his head. She was a puzzle.
He stuck his hands in his coat pockets, to keep from doing what he wanted to do with them. He cocked his head and studied her through narrowed eyes. “What am I thinking?”
“That you’d love to kiss me good-night, but you think I might become addictive, so you’re going to rush out to your truck and go home,” she said simply.
His eyebrows arched. It was so close to the truth that it made him uncomfortable.
She laughed. “Now you’re thinking that I’m a witch,” she mused.
His breath rushed out in a torrent.
“And now you’re shocked,” she continued. “It’s okay. I’m used to it. One of the Kirk boys married a psychic. I’m not nearly in her class, but she said people wouldn’t even come into an office where she worked because they were afraid of her.”
“I’m not afraid of seers,” he replied.
“You’re just uneasy, because it’s one of those spooky things people keep hidden,” she said.
He burst out laughing and shook his head. “My God.”
“I don’t usually talk about it around people. I wouldn’t want my bosses to fire me because clients ran for the hills.”
“It’s a rare gift,” he said after a minute.
“It can be,” she said, but her face clouded.
His eyes narrowed. “You see things you don’t want to see.”
She nodded. “I know when bad things are going to happen to people I love,” she said sadly. “I knew when my grandmother was going to die. She had the gift, too.”
“What did she tell you?”
She shifted her purse in her hands. “She said that my life was going to be a hard one,” she replied. “That I’d make a very bad decision and I’d pay a high price for it. She said that I’d marry, but not for love, and that tragedy would stalk me like a tiger for several years. But that I’d have a happy, full life afterwards.”
He was surprised at the commonality in the predictions his grandmother and hers had given for both of them.
“It is odd, isn’t it?” she asked, as if she’d read the thought in his mind. “I mean, that your grandmother would have told you almost what mine told me.”
“Odd,” he agreed.
“On the other hand, maybe they were both just rambling,” she said, and smiled. “Predictions are just that. Predictions. I don’t read the future at all. I just get cold, hollow feelings when something bad’s going to happen. Mostly when it concerns Daddy.”
“I’ve never had that.”
“Lucky you,” she said. She searched his lean face. “You’ve had a hard life, J.C. I don’t even have to know about you. It shows. So much pain…”
“Stop right there,” he interrupted, his jaw taut.
“Overstepped the boundaries, did I?” she asked, and smiled. “Sorry. I just open my mouth and stuff my foot in, all the time.”
That amused him and he laughed.
“It was a nice night out. Thanks,” she said.
He shrugged. “It was nice,” he agreed. “But we’re not doing it again.”
“Of course not,” she agreed, hiding the pain.
“I’m not in the market for a picket fence, no matter how attractive the accessories.”
It took her a minute, but she got it. She laughed. “Okay.”
“You’re quick.”
“Not so much.” She sighed. “It was fun.”
“It was fun. Good night.”
“Good night.”
“Tell Rod I’m still on for the poker game, if he is. He’ll understand,” he added as he turned to leave.
“I’ll tell him.”
He forced himself to walk to the SUV, open the door, get in and crank it. He didn’t look at her. If he had, he knew he wouldn’t be able to leave.
****
Colie watched him drive away. He didn’t wave. He didn’t look back. She felt a sense of terrible loss. But he was right. They had no future. Their outlooks were far too different. Still, he needed somebody. He was so alone, so tormented.
She opened the door and went inside. Her father was just coming out of his study. His quick glance showed him that it had been a conventional date, and that nothing had happened. He tried to hide his sense of relief.
“Have fun?” he asked.
“Oh, yes,” she said, grinning. “It was a great movie. We had dinner at the fish place. I love their fries.”
“They’re good,” he said, nodding. He cocked his head. “Going out again?”
She shook her head. “He’s very nice, but he hates picket fences,” she said.
He moved closer. She was putting on a show, and he knew it. She was in pain. “Daughter,” he said gently, “there’s a reason for everything, a plan behind whatever happens to us. You have to let life happen. You can’t force it to be what you’d like it to be.”
She smiled and hugged him. “And we can’t get involved with people who aren’t like us. I know all that. It’s what he said, too.” She closed her eyes. “It still hurts.”
“Of course it does. But pain passes. Everything does, in time.”
“Yes. In time,” she agreed.
****
But it didn’t pass. Every time Rod mentioned J.C., Colie felt it like a stab in her heart. She knew that J.C. was totally wrong for her. It didn’t help. She wanted him. Loved him. Hungered for him.
She went to work, came home, cooked and cleaned, read books, went to bed. She got up the next day and did the very same things. But she felt as empty inside as a tennis ball.
****
She didn’t know it, but J.C. was having the same problem. Every day, he went to work and was haunted by the soft twinkle in a pair of loving green eyes. He was used to women who wanted him. But one who loved him…that was new. It was frightening.
Could he take her and walk away afterwards? Could he not take her and live? He agonized over it.
His boss, Ren Colter, noticed his preoccupation while they were inspecting a downed fence on the edge of the property.
“That tree needs to come down,” Ren remarked.
“I’ll tell Willis,” J.C. replied. Willis was the foreman.
“What’s eating you?” Ren asked suddenly, and from the standpoint of the friend he’d been for years. “You’re not yourself.”
“Just a few sleepless nights, that’s all,” J.C. lied.
“Umhmmm. And it wouldn’t have something to do with Colie Thompson…?”
J.C.’s pale gray eyes flashed. “Listen, just because I took her to a movie…!”
“Oh, can it,” Ren said shortly. “You’ve been mooning around here for a week, like a ghost trying to find a place to haunt. I hear she’s doing the same thing.”
“She is?” J.C. asked.
The other man’s expression was like a statement. Ren chuckled. “You have to take the path to see where it leads. Ask yourself, are you happier now?”
“No.”
“Then why don’t you do something about it?”
J.C. ground his teeth together. “Her father’s a minister and I don’t want to get married.”
“You don’t have to propose just because you take her out on dates,” was the reasonable reply. “Do you?”
J.C. sighed. “It will complicate things.”
“Life is too short to avoid complications.”
J.C. studied him. After a minute he laughed shortly. “I guess it is, at that.”
****
Colie was just getting into her old beat-up pickup truck in the parking lot of the law firm where she worked when a big black SUV pulled into the spot beside her.
She turned and J.C. was getting out of it.
He stopped just in front of her. He looked angry, conflicted, worried. He drew in a breath. “The hell with it,” he said curtly.
“What?” she began.
He pulled her into his arms and bent his head. “We’ll take it one day at a time,” he whispered as his mouth burrowed softly, slowly into hers.
She would have questioned him, but a shock of pleasure ran the length of her body and left her trembling. She reached up and held him, hung on for dear life, while he made a five-course meal of her soft, eager mouth.
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by New York Times bestselling author
Diana Palmer,
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Copyright ©2017 by Diana Palmer