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Jared (Bachelors And Babies Book 7) Page 9


  "Something I have to do." Still clinging to her other wrist, he jerked her free, shut the door and swung her around to face him.

  "Yeah?" she challenged. "Like what?"

  "This." His mouth came down on hers, firmly but not cruelly. His arms wrapped around her holding her against his tall, strong body. As if they had a mind of their own, her hands slid up his chest to the back of his neck where she speared her fingers into his longish hair.

  The world faded from consciousness the moment Healy felt his lips against hers. But that was the real world. She liked this fantasy realm better. Here, she could do want she wanted.

  She molded her lips and body to his, willingly surrendering to the heat that flared between them and ignoring any small voice that tried to interfere. She wanted this, and now that she had it, she realized she'd been wanting it for a long time. Or, what felt like a long time, ever since the last kiss he'd given her. That had been a tease. This was for real.

  She loved it. She…

  Had she truly been about to say she loved him?

  Impossible.

  "Healy, Healy," he murmured, pressing quick kisses to her cheeks, eyes, temples and under her ears. "What have you done to me?"

  "Nothing." She tilted her head to give him better access to her neck. "You're doing it to me."

  Abruptly, he released her. "Leave. Go to the house before I do something we'll both regret."

  "How do you know I'll regret it?"

  "Because once it's done, there'll be no taking it back and there could be consequences." He turned to his worktable.

  Healy watched him for a moment. "You mean I could end up in the condition the reverend and his wife already think I 'min? And no doubt Melanie and her mother as well?"

  He laughed without humor. "Exactly."

  "All right."She reached for the door handle. "I'll go."

  "Wait!" Jared spun around and grabbed her hand. "Just one more quick one."

  And he kissed her again, as if he couldn't stand not to.

  Chapter Seven

  Healy and Jared hadn't even reached the church steps before people began whispering behind their hands and staring at them. Healy stiffened and tried to stop. She wanted to go back to the ranch. To home.

  Jared tightened his grip on her arm that he'd looped through his. "Don't you dare try to run. We Givenses have more guts than these idiots know."

  Healy wished she could kiss him. "You're right. We'll show them."

  "We’re right behind you, Healy," Cynara said, walking with Barclay."Don't let them see they can hurt or humiliate you."

  "I'd like to punch a few noses," Chase muttered. "These used to be friends. Times like these show how fickle people are."

  "Not all of them are that way." Jared waved to Tom Jeffers who approached them with his wife.

  "Morning," Tom said. "Cool today, isn't it? I can smell winter in the air."

  "Sure can." Jared halted and the rest of the family gathered around them like a support wall. "Nice to see you, Tom, Beth."

  "And I'm so glad to meet your bride, Jared." Beth Jeffers took Healy's hand and squeezed it. "I hope we can become fast friends, like me and Cynara."

  The Jeffers' effort to welcome her to Cutthroat genuinely touched her. "Thank you. I look forward to getting to know you better."

  "Hello, Beth." Cynara stepped forward and instantly became enfolded in Beth's arms. "It's so kind of you to do this."

  "Do what, Cynara?" Beth blinked innocently.

  "You know what." Cynara glared at some women obviously gossiping about them."What's the matter with these people that they can assume bad things about my sister before they even set eyes on her?"

  "It's the typical mindset of a small town," Beth said. "Didn't used to be like this, you know. Gracious, when we first moved here, there were dozens of men but only four families, and we bonded together like hoof glue. I wish it had stayed that way."

  "Here comes an old friend." Barclay reached out and accepted the hand of a man Healy hadn't met yet but recognized as the marshal by his badge. "Hello, Clyde. Any news?"

  They wandered off and a flash of red caught Healy's eye as Melanie strolled up in a beautiful flame-colored dress, her glowering mother beside her. "Hello, Jared. Cynara. It's nice to see you again, Mrs. Givens. I'm afraid I don't remember your name."

  "Healy," she answered, offering her hand.

  Melanie accepted it and gave her a weak smile. "I hope you enjoy the service."

  She returned to her mother's side and the Givens group strolled closer to the church.

  "Surprisingly generous of her," Jared said, seeming surprised.

  Ma Givens joined them. "Well, isn't this marvelous? My whole family all together. It's like a party. Why don’t you all come over after church, and I'll make popcorn balls."

  Chase licked his lips. "Wouldn't miss that, Ma."

  "Of course, we'll come over," Barclay said, giving his mother a kiss.

  The reverend stepped onto the small porch, inviting his parishioners inside and the scattered mob surged toward the entrance.

  "Are you cold?" Jared asked as they walked, studying her outfit.

  "Yes, but I don't care." Healy had worn her tightest dress and left her shawl in the wagon to show off her small waistline for the busybodies who wanted to believe she might be with child.

  As they merged with the crowd, a few women she didn't know cast friendly smiles her way, and she gratefully returned them in kind.

  Inside, they occupied an entire row and a half near the front, with Healy installed right in the center. A sense of rightness came over her. She belonged here with these people, this wonderful family, this town. It felt good. It felt safe.

  After the service, they trooped down to Julia Givens' house at the far end of town. Julia immediately changed from her Sunday clothes and put on an apron. The women settled in the kitchen, all pitching in to make the popcorn balls, sandwiches and lemonade. They changed the triplets, fed and put them down for a nap, although Vella resisted cooperating. The little scamp wanted to play.

  Chase started a ball game in the front yard with his brothers. It soon turned into a wrestling match.

  "Those boys." Ma Gives watched out the window for a moment before going outside, carrying her heavy-duty wooden spoon.

  "Uh oh." Cynara hurried to the window.

  "What?" Healy joined her.

  "Watch. Ma Givens isn't one to mess with."

  Cynara was right.

  Ma Givens went straight to the men. Grunting, laughing and cursing, they wrestled and tumbled over the ground, first Chase and Jared, then Barclay and Jared, then all three. Ma whapped them each on the head with her spoon. They yelped and jumped up, covered in dirt, clothes in disarray. "If you children have that much energy to waste, go put it to good use and fix the back fence."

  Grumbling in a good-natured way, they headed around the side of the house, slapping dirt from their pants and shirts.

  "Ma Givens, I know you have two daughters," Healy stirred a pot full of honey mixed with various herbs and seasonings on the stove while Ma popped the corn. "I had wondered where they are."

  "Heavens, child. Call me Ma. You're family. Now, about my girls, "Ma said. A delighted expression spread across her face. "Charissa and her husband, Rand, live in Bozeman. They're to give me a grandchild soon."

  "Three more weeks," Cynara added. "I don't know who's more excited, Charissa or Ma."

  "Me," Ma answered. "Dena is my other daughter. She's been attending college in Denver, studying business and law. She'll graduate next June."

  "My, what an achievement. I can imagine how proud you are of her," Healy said. "Do you think she'll practice law?"

  "I wouldn't be surprised, although men are always telling her she'll never get any clients because she's a woman. Mark my words; Dena will prove them wrong." Ma made jabbing motions with her spoon, emphasizing her statement.

  "I can't wait to meet her," Healy said.

  "That reminds me." Ma fi
lled a cauldron with the popped corn. "When are you going to marry my Jared?"

  Taken aback, Healy stopped stirring and stared at the older woman, her face growing hot. "W-What? Who said I would marry him?"

  "The way you watch each other." Again, Ma emphasized her words with her spoon.

  "Oh." Healy averted her face to hide her expression. "You misunderstand. We're friends. Of course, we act married when someone other than family is around, but it's only pretense."

  "Humph. Don't try to fool an old woman, young lady. I didn't live this long without learning a mite or two."

  Cynara chuckled. "Don't bother denying it, Healy. We aren't blind."

  Embarrassed and miffed at them, Healy took the pot from the stove and set it on the worktable. "I need some air."

  She grabbed her shawl and exited through the front door.

  Were they right?

  Healy marched along the street going nowhere in particular, forgetting everything except the questions burning in her brain.

  How could Cynara and Mrs. Givens be so sure of something she didn't know herself? What did she feel for Jared? She liked his kisses and being in his arms. She admired his mind and his kind heart. But did that mean she loved him? What was love?

  Did he feel the same for her as Ma hinted at? He treated her well, very protective of her, but that was just his way. They got along quite well. She enjoyed his company and working with him in his shop.

  Unease crept over her as she heard a horse behind her. Stepping aside, she glanced over and saw a man in the saddle. A stranger. Fear shot up her spine.

  "Looks like you're gonna run short of town here pretty soon," he said."You going to the cemetery? That's the only thing out this way."

  Skelly's handsome, scheming face flashed into her mind and a scream rose in her throat. But this wasn't Skelly. Calm, she schooled herself. Stay calm. "That's my concern, not yours, sir."

  Since he didn't move, she swung around to reverse her steps. The man, close to middle age, wearing a worn sack coat and canvas pants with frayed hems, desperately needed to trim his mustache and beard. She didn't know him.

  "How 'bout I give you a ride?" He angled his horse across her path.

  "No, thank you." She circled around him and aimed her feet for Mrs. Givens' tidy little house. Jared, with Barclay and Chase behind him, burst from the yard and hurried toward her.

  She waved and quickened her pace.

  The man on the horse followed.

  Any moment she expected to feel his arm wrap around her and be dragged onto his horse.

  Hurry, Jared. Hurry.

  Jared switched from walking to running. Several yards short of reaching her, he stopped.

  No. What are you doing? Come and get me.

  He waved instead, not at her but at the stranger. "Hou, Neville. You rounding up my stray wife for me?" He actually grinned. Healy wanted to hit him.

  "Figured she must be lost," the man riding beside her said. "Didn't know she was your missus. I heard that rumor but didn't believe it."

  They knew each other? Healy slowed to a normal walk. She'd been approaching full-out panic, and this man was a friend of Jared's?

  "It's no rumor," Jared said.

  At last she reached him, and he slipped an arm around her, reeling her in like a fish until she became plastered to his side.

  "Thanks for fetching her back. She'd have been lost soon for sure." Jared tightened his hold when she tried to pull free. "Hasn't a lick of sense when it comes to directions."

  She opened her mouth to object, but Jared pinched her waist. Behind the screen of her skirts, she stomped on his boot toe, forcing a grunt of pain from him.

  The man, Neville, laughed as if he'd seen her retaliation. "Just like my wife. How's your ma doing, Jared?"

  "Feisty as ever. She's making popcorn balls. Want to join us?"

  "Naw." Neville shook his head."Sounds delicious, but I need to get home. It's my little Sarah's birthday. Take good care of that gal of yours. Looks like a good 'un."

  "She is."

  The moment Neville turned away, she jerked free from her so-called mate and scurried to the house where Cynara, with Vella in her arms, and Ma stood in the yard, appearing anxious. Luckily, Jared stayed with the men.

  Barclay and Chase parted to clear a path for her.

  She shoved open the gate in the picket fence and marched straight into the house, ignoring her sister and Mrs. Givens. Having no room of her own here to hide in, she went to the kitchen and resumed tending to the honey. Judging from the smell, it had begun to burn on the bottom, so she avoided scraping the pot with the spoon.

  "Healy." Cynara entered the room, Ma behind her. "What were you doing? Where did you plan to go? The only thing that direction is the town graveyard."

  "So, I've been told." She kept stirring.

  Jared swung open the door. "Healy, are you all right?"

  "I'm fine."

  "You're lucky that wasn't Skelly." He confronted her, hands on his hips. "What in blazes did you think you were doing? Scared me half to death when I saw you with a stranger out there, until I recognized him."

  "I needed to think," she said, shoving him aside.

  He threw his hands into the air."From now on, do your thinking where you're safe."

  He sounded so much like Skelly, so demanding, she blurted, "I'll do it wherever I damn well please, Jared Givens. I'm not your wife, and don't intend to be."

  Jared's mouth dropped open as he gaped at her. Mrs. Givens gasped.

  Stunned by her own uncharacteristic vulgarity, Healy slapped a hand over her mouth, whirled and ran— through Julia Givens' house, out the back door and across the yard, not stopping until she reached the vacant but reeking confines of the outhouse.

  After bolting the door, she stood there, her forehead pressed to the painted wood while tears leaked down her face. Would Jared think this safe enough? No one would dare bother her here.

  "Healy?" Jared pounded on the door. "Healy, come out of there. Please. I'm sorry I yelled at you. I realize the stress you've been under, and I haven't been helping you through it as I should. Can we talk about it?"

  She couldn't believe what she'd heard. Jared apologizing? A man apologizing? Did he truly feel bad for her? Skelly would have either patted her on the head and handed her some money or walked out, slamming the door behind him.

  Did she want to talk with him? Did he have the ability to understand, or at least the willingness to listen?

  A huge fly buzzed around her head. She swatted at it and missed. She'd given no thought to the usual insects in privies. Now, she glanced around. No spiders hung from webs ready to drop down on her, but a hornet sat perched on the wooden seat.

  She decided she didn't want to stay there. Unbolting the door, she stepped outside. Jared stood a few yards away under an apple tree whose leaves were browning. At home, at the ranch—funny she automatically thought of it as home—she'd noticed the grass drying out and losing color. Winter knocked on the door.

  Another reason she should leave soon. If she left, which didn't appear likely. Not if Jared and Cynara had anything to say about it. Unfortunately, their insistence that she stay did nothing to banish her fear.

  "You okay?" Jared asked.

  She walked closer, nodding. "I apologize for my bad language. I don't know what got into me."

  "It gave me a shock, all right."He pushed away from the tree, and his expression softened."Don’t worry, I won't tattle."

  She swallowed the surge of tears in her throat and pressed the heel of her hand against the ache in her chest. "Why are you so good to me? I've done nothing to deserve it."

  He stood in front of her, in arm's reach. "You don't make fun of my inventions."

  That struck her as so preposterous, she wanted to laugh.

  "Was that the beginnings of a smile I saw there?" He stepped closer and reached out to touch the corner of her mouth.

  Healy turned her face away to avoid an impulse to kiss his finge
r.

  How had she come to care for this man so soon? They'd known each other such a short while and even all the time they'd spent on his inventions in his workroom didn't explain her feelings. She studied him, the twinkle in his eye, the fall of his hair onto his collar, the gentle curve of his mouth. He was glorious to look at, but that didn't justify her emotions either. More likely, his good nature and kind heart were to blame.

  Either way, she needed to convince herself it didn't mean that she loved him.

  Chapter Eight

  St. Louis, Missouri

  Skelly Bernard stormed through his house on Bascom Street, slamming doors and kicking a black and white cat. Reaching his desk, he waited until the two men trailing him had entered and his assistant, Rupert, shut the door. After removing his coat and handing it to Rupert, he smoothed back his darkening blonde hair and addressed the second man, Chips Donahue, his head of security.

  "All right, Chips. Bring me up to date. Any word from Blackie?'

  "No, sir." The tall, burly man stood with his feet spread, hands behind his back. The perfect image of a hireling, but Skelly knew better.

  "No? What the hell is the man doing? You did wire him, didn't you, with the address I told you to give him?" He struck his desk with his fist. "Tell me, damn you!"

  Rupert, his assistant edged closer to the door as if Skelly wouldn't notice. Chips simply looked at his employer, his face inscrutable.

  "I apologize, sir." Chips didn't even blink. "I paid that telegrapher to send his boy here the minute he gets any word from Blackie."

  Skelly stalked around the desk to face the man nose to nose. He enjoyed getting into people's personal space and making them nervous. The fact that Chips showed no reaction at all added to his ire. "Go there yourself and check again."

  "Yes, sir." Spinning on his heel, the man left the room.

  Rupert hugged his ledger to his chest and stared, adding to Skelly's ire. Uttering a curse, he strode to his liquor cabinet and poured a finger of whiskey. Tipping back his head, he swallowed the golden liquid in one gulp. "That's better."