time, he said, "Well, now, ain't you just like a puppy to the root?"
"Land sakes, Jake! Don't try to bewilder me with one of your Texas witticisms. I put my reputation on the line—Pa’s, too, for that matter—to defend you back there. I believe I deserve an explanation." With that, she folded her arms over her chest and tapped one booted toe on the wagon's board floor. "'Puppy to the root,' indeed. Now, out with it!"
"Don't get your neck hairs bristlin'," he said, smiling a bit. "I only meant that once you get your mind set on something.... Well, you just ain't gonna let it be, no matter what." A crooked grin slanted his mouth. "Are you?"
Her eyes narrowed. "So I'm stubborn. It's not a hanging offense, far as I know."
Her words left him cold. Jake knew she'd only been teasing, it was written all over her pretty face. Still, the words cut him like a skinning knife and left him raw. He'd developed a pretty thick hide these past ten years, or so he'd thought.... "Men can be downright rude sometimes," was all he said.
"And one in particular," she countered, one brow high on her forehead, " seems to be smart enough to evade an issue indefinitely, even if he has to pay himself an insult to do it."
She ’d sat at his right side and, as she had on the trip into Baltimore, left a good foot of seat between them. Now, however, intense curiosity caused her to sidle closer. So close, in fact, that he could feel the warmth of her skin ebbing through her many-petticoated skirts, could feel her breath against his cheek. He liked having her this near. Liked the way the toe of her tiny boot lined up alongside his big one, and the way her hand rested daintily, almost possessively, on his knee.
Not wanting to do anything that would cause her to move away, Jake shifted the reins from his right hand to his left.
Smart enough to evade an issue, even if it means paying himself an insult, she'd said. Smart, indeed! If he were smart, he'd take her in his arms and....
"Bess," Jake whispered hoarsely, "I'm not a smart man. You can bet your last dollar on that."
She leaned nearer still and said softly into his ear, "Lucky for you, I'm not a betting woman. My mama used to say that gambling is evil."
Sitting there, her face lit by the bright yellow light of the setting sun, he noticed tiny green and gold flecks in her brown eyes. And the lashes he'd believed to be black as coal were, instead, the color of mink. He wondered if the long ride or the intensity of their conversation had heightened the pink in her cheeks. Most of all, he wished she'd stop pursing those pretty, kissable lips....
"Penny-ante gambling ain't evil," he grated. At least we're on a more pleasant subject than my date with the gallows.... "It's good clean fun, long as it doesn't get out of hand."
She shrugged. "Mama wasn't talking about the gambling that takes control of folks, of course that's wrong. She was talking about ordinary, everyday bets. 'Penny-ante' isn't evil you say? Well, I say it's wrong, because for one person to win, someone else has to lose; the winner's good fortune comes at the expense of a relative, a friend, a neighbor."
Jake smiled, wondering, Would you take a gamble on me , Bess? So lost in her lively eyes and animated gestures was he that Jake forgot for a moment how the subject of gambling had come up in the first place. And when he remembered, she flashed him an enticing, mischievous grin, all but making him lose track of what he'd intended to say about the subject. "If I were a smart man, I'd hitch this team to that tree over there," he said, nodding toward a big maple beside the road. "I'd lift you down from this old wagon and set both your pretty little feet on the ground."
He turned on the bench, so that only their knees touched now. "I'd give you the biggest hug you've ever had," he added, his thumb pushing up the brim of his hat, "then I'd kiss you like you've never been kissed before." He could feel her soft breaths, could see by the
"Land sakes, Jake! Don't try to bewilder me with one of your Texas witticisms. I put my reputation on the line—Pa’s, too, for that matter—to defend you back there. I believe I deserve an explanation." With that, she folded her arms over her chest and tapped one booted toe on the wagon's board floor. "'Puppy to the root,' indeed. Now, out with it!"
"Don't get your neck hairs bristlin'," he said, smiling a bit. "I only meant that once you get your mind set on something.... Well, you just ain't gonna let it be, no matter what." A crooked grin slanted his mouth. "Are you?"
Her eyes narrowed. "So I'm stubborn. It's not a hanging offense, far as I know."
Her words left him cold. Jake knew she'd only been teasing, it was written all over her pretty face. Still, the words cut him like a skinning knife and left him raw. He'd developed a pretty thick hide these past ten years, or so he'd thought.... "Men can be downright rude sometimes," was all he said.
"And one in particular," she countered, one brow high on her forehead, " seems to be smart enough to evade an issue indefinitely, even if he has to pay himself an insult to do it."
She ’d sat at his right side and, as she had on the trip into Baltimore, left a good foot of seat between them. Now, however, intense curiosity caused her to sidle closer. So close, in fact, that he could feel the warmth of her skin ebbing through her many-petticoated skirts, could feel her breath against his cheek. He liked having her this near. Liked the way the toe of her tiny boot lined up alongside his big one, and the way her hand rested daintily, almost possessively, on his knee.
Not wanting to do anything that would cause her to move away, Jake shifted the reins from his right hand to his left.
Smart enough to evade an issue, even if it means paying himself an insult, she'd said. Smart, indeed! If he were smart, he'd take her in his arms and....
"Bess," Jake whispered hoarsely, "I'm not a smart man. You can bet your last dollar on that."
She leaned nearer still and said softly into his ear, "Lucky for you, I'm not a betting woman. My mama used to say that gambling is evil."
Sitting there, her face lit by the bright yellow light of the setting sun, he noticed tiny green and gold flecks in her brown eyes. And the lashes he'd believed to be black as coal were, instead, the color of mink. He wondered if the long ride or the intensity of their conversation had heightened the pink in her cheeks. Most of all, he wished she'd stop pursing those pretty, kissable lips....
"Penny-ante gambling ain't evil," he grated. At least we're on a more pleasant subject than my date with the gallows.... "It's good clean fun, long as it doesn't get out of hand."
She shrugged. "Mama wasn't talking about the gambling that takes control of folks, of course that's wrong. She was talking about ordinary, everyday bets. 'Penny-ante' isn't evil you say? Well, I say it's wrong, because for one person to win, someone else has to lose; the winner's good fortune comes at the expense of a relative, a friend, a neighbor."
Jake smiled, wondering, Would you take a gamble on me , Bess? So lost in her lively eyes and animated gestures was he that Jake forgot for a moment how the subject of gambling had come up in the first place. And when he remembered, she flashed him an enticing, mischievous grin, all but making him lose track of what he'd intended to say about the subject. "If I were a smart man, I'd hitch this team to that tree over there," he said, nodding toward a big maple beside the road. "I'd lift you down from this old wagon and set both your pretty little feet on the ground."
He turned on the bench, so that only their knees touched now. "I'd give you the biggest hug you've ever had," he added, his thumb pushing up the brim of his hat, "then I'd kiss you like you've never been kissed before." He could feel her soft breaths, could see by the
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