Charlene Sands (9 page)

“Oh, and here,” he said, handing her the package. “This is for you.”

Jenna’s light-blond brows lifted. “For me?” She appeared stunned, as though she’d never received a gift before. She took the package from his hands, casting him wary glances. “I don’t understand.”

“Go ahead. Open it, Jenna.”

Jenna sat down on the sofa and placed the package on her lap. With tentative fingers, she undid the thin string tie and the package folds opened slightly. Spreading the folds open all the way, Jenna stared down at the contents. “Oh, my.”

Her fingers grazed over the soft material of the dress. “This is beautiful.”

“Take it out,” Cash encouraged, hoping she’d accept his gift. He’d spent some time with Miss Millie at the emporium trying to find just the right one.

Jenna lifted the dress, the golden color nearly a perfect match to her long unruly hair. “It’s store-bought,” she said in awe.

Cash stepped closer, gratified by the look of
pleasure on Jenna’s face. She’d probably never owned a dress that hadn’t been sewn on this farm. “It should fit. When I saw the color, it reminded me of you.” Golden, like ripened wheat fields. “I went by my recollections of your size.”

Jenna’s head shot up and her pale complexion turned rosy red. Cash cleared his throat. What could he say? A man didn’t forget the taste and feel of a woman like Jenna Duncan. He knew her size right down to her tiny delicate ankles.

She dropped the dress down, regret filling her eyes. With a chill in her voice, she said, “I can’t accept this.”

“Why not?”

“You bought this with gambling money.”

“Jenna, you saved my life. A man has a right to say thank-you for that. It’s a proper gift for a proper lady.”

She began refolding the dress, setting it back in its wrap. “Using gambling money isn’t my idea of a proper anything.”

Cash spoke with quiet regard. “Gambling’s all I’ve ever known, Jenna. It put food on my plate and a roof over my head since I was just a boy. I can’t help it, any more than you can help being a farmer. I didn’t have much choice. But if that dress can bring you an ounce of joy, then please accept it. You deserve something nice.”

Jenna nodded, her eyes downcast. She wouldn’t fight him on this, but she also refused to understand.
She had a real blind side when it came to gambling. Damn, she peered at the dress with such longing that Cash knew she truly wanted it.

“It’s really very lovely,” she said finally.

“Then keep it. You don’t have to wear it. But keep the dress up in your room. Even if just to look at.”

Jenna studied the garment, her gaze travelling over each detail, each pearl button, each golden stitch. The kitten jumped playfully on the dress, and Jenna shooed her away. “I don’t…think I should.”

Cash kept his patience. “It won’t hurt anything if you just tuck it away in your room, Jenna.”

She lifted her eyes to him, the fight all but gone from her. She’d had quite a wearisome day, he assumed, by the sound of her long drawn-out sigh. “Fine, then, Mr. Callahan.”

Mr. Callahan?
Cash couldn’t abide her stiff formality and he hoped to change that real soon. But at least she accepted the dress. That would have to be enough for now, he decided.

A short time later, Jenna headed to the barn carrying a thick wool blanket and a basket. Standing just inside the doorway, she peered inside. A lantern burned dim light into the loft. “Mr. Callahan?”

“I’m up here,” he called out and Jenna saw his face appear at the edge of the loft.

“I brought you a blanket and some food. It’s nothing much, since I didn’t cook today. There’s some bread and cheese and Rosalinda’s pecan pie.”

A wide grin split his face. “You got pie?”

“I’ll just leave the basket. You can return it in the morning.” Jenna set both the basket and the blanket down, anxious to leave. The less time spent with him the better.

“Wait! I’m coming down.”

Jenna paused. She didn’t want to be alone in the barn with Cash Callahan, yet to leave so abruptly would only make her seem foolish. She’d only come to offer him a plate of food. Short moments later, Jenna stood face to face with him. “Is there something else?”

Cash lifted the basket and peered inside, his eyes going wide like a young boy finding a hidden treasure. “Haven’t had a decent meal in days. Been eating hard tack and beans mostly. Me and Scrappy.”

“Scrappy?”

“My dog. Sort of followed me from town and the darn mutt won’t leave my side. Didn’t you catch a glimpse of him today?”

“Uh, no. I wasn’t paying much mind to anything but Ben.” Jenna glanced up and saw the thin, unkempt black-and-white dog wag his tail from above. “Looks like he could use a good meal, too.”

“He’ll fatten up on the farm. He ain’t particular. He’ll eat anything he catches.”

“Really? What do you suppose he’ll catch on the farm?” Jenna had visions of a rat and mouse slayer. True, Button was the farm’s foremost predator in that regard, but what on earth would a dog be able to catch?

Cash’s lips curled up. “Anything I throw his way.”

An unexpected chuckle bubbled up and Jenna shook her head with amusement. Despite her not wanting him here, Cash Callahan could make her laugh.

“He’ll make a real good watchdog.”

“Right,” Jenna said, holding back a smile now. “I noticed the way he nearly pounced on me when I came in.”

“Yeah,” Cash said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “I noticed that, too.” He lifted his head toward the loft. “You just go back to sleep, old boy. We’ll work on your watchdog skills tomorrow.” Cash smiled. “Appreciate the food, Jenna.”

“It’s nothing special. There’ll be a hot meal for you in the morning.”

Cash nodded, gesturing to the barn with a sweep of his hand. “Should I take my meals in here?”

Jenna flinched. “Oh, um—” She hadn’t thought that far ahead. She didn’t have to condemn the man to eating with the barn animals. It was enough he was sleeping with them. “No, I’ll have a meal
waiting for you in the kitchen. I’ll unlatch the door in the morning.”

“That sounds fine to me.” Cash smiled wide, his dark blue eyes a bright gleam in the dimly lit barn.

“Well then, Mr.—”

He placed a finger to her lips. “It’s Cash.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. His touch, the soft yet rough texture of his skin on hers, brought back memories of the night they’d shared, of how his fingers had traced the outline of her lips, before his mouth had come down over hers. When she opened her eyes, his finger was gone and Cash had taken up the blanket and basket, ready to climb the ladder leading to the hayloft.

“Sleep tight,” he said as he clutched the rung of the ladder.

Jenna prayed that she would. She had a long day ahead of her tomorrow and dreaming about Cash Callahan was simply out of the question. Her good memories of him warred in her head with the bad ones, creating unsettling and uneasy thoughts. Yet, she had no choice but to accept him for the time being. He was here, not by her choice, but by Ben and Rosalinda’s bidding. Jenna would have to learn to live with that, and with him.

“Good night…then.”

He paused on the third step, but didn’t turn around. Softly, he uttered, “Thanks for the meal.”
She watched him until he was knee-deep in hay then dashed out the barn door.

Cash woke before the sun made its way up, hearing the sound of the barn door creak open. He reached for his gun then crawled over to the edge of the loft, covering himself with hay. Gazing over the rim, he watched with amazement as Jenna stroked the old milk cow, Larabeth, softly, using soothing words to coerce her into a contented state.

Then she sat down on a tiny stool and proceeded to milk her. Cash heard the tink, tink, tink as milk entered the pail.

Button walked up and rubbed her silky body against Jenna’s leg. “You’re only cuddling me ’cause you want something, don’t you?”

Button removed herself, sitting a few feet away in a regal feline pose. She eyed Jenna with controlled anticipation, her sharp gaze never wavering as she sat waiting. Jenna laughed quietly, the sound a small whisper of delight. “Okay, okay, Miss Button, mistress of the barn. Is this what you want?”

Jenna aimed the teat and squeezed. Milk squirted out and hit Button right on the nose and mouth. The cat eagerly lapped up the milk and waited for more.

“Two more squirts. That’s all I have time for, you sweet mama kitty.” She aimed and didn’t disappoint the cat, the milk blasting forth onto Button’s face.

Cash laughed aloud, startling Jenna. She stiffened, as though she’d forgotten he’d been sleeping there. “It’s just me, Jenna.” He climbed down from the hayloft and stood beside her. “That’s quite a trick.”

Jenna relaxed her stance and Cash made a note not to startle her again. It would take some getting used to, he supposed, for Jenna to remember he was a temporary resident on her property now. “Button loves it. It’s like a game with her. Did I wake you? I almost forgot—”

“No, you didn’t wake me.” Cash, dressed in only an undergarment and his work trousers, shook his head. “But do you always rise so early?”

“I like to get an early start.”

Cash stretched, his arms lifting and pulling the muscles taut. Jenna averted her gaze and resumed the milking.

“You could sleep longer if you let me do that,” Cash said, thinking aloud.

“I get enough sleep,” Jenna responded, matter-of-factly.

Cash studied her from the back, the lift of her shoulders and the curve of her hips. She was a strong woman, but again, he wondered if she carried his child. “You look tired, Jenna. An extra bit of time in bed could do you good. I’m here in the barn anyway. I could learn how to milk the cow.”

“It’s not as easy as you think,” she offered and
Cash got the distinct impression Jenna didn’t think he was up to the challenge.

“It doesn’t look hard at all.”

“Larabeth is used to me. There’s trust between us.”

“Tarnation, is that all? Why, I bet I could have that old milk cow filling that pail faster than a jackrabbit stealing into a lettuce patch.”

Jenna’s back went ramrod stiff. “There’ll be no betting on this farm.”

Cash suppressed a chuckle, putting a somber tone in his voice. “Okay, I
believe
I wouldn’t have a bit of trouble milking old Larabeth here. Want to show me how?”

Jenna gazed down into the half-full pail. “I’m about through for now. Best if we try again later tonight. That’s if you really want to learn?”

Cash nodded. “I do.”

“Fine, then. I’ll meet you in here after supper tonight and we’ll see how you do.” Jenna lifted the pail and shoved the stool into the corner. “I’ll have your breakfast ready in an hour.”

“What should I do until then?”

“Feed the animals, muck out the barn and chop some wood. After breakfast, we’ll get to the fields.”

“We? Jenna, I don’t think you should—”

“I’m a farmer, Mr. Callahan. It’s what I do.”

Jenna’s raised chin and defiant tone was meant to put Cash in his place. He understood her pride,
her determination. She hadn’t had too many people to count on during her life. But the hell of it was, he didn’t want her killing herself out in the fields. Not while he was here. Not while she might be with child.

And damn it all, if she didn’t stop calling him
Mr. Callahan,
he was going to have to resort to desperate measures, like
kissing
her mouth shut.

Wouldn’t that put Miss Jenna Duncan in her place?

Of course, it could also land him off of Twin Oaks completely, tossed out onto his backside.

Cash wasn’t entirely sure it wasn’t worth the risk.

J
enna just couldn’t believe Cash Callahan wanted to learn how to milk old Larabeth. A man like him, well, he just wasn’t suited for such things.

Drinking fine whiskey, eyeing the ladies and betting his money down, that’s what Cash Callahan knew how to do. He was no farmer, and soon, the ravages of the day would get to him. Wouldn’t be long before he’d leave. Farm work took stamina. It took persistence. It took
faith.
Without the latter, no man, woman or child would ever become a farmer. Simple forces of nature could destroy your crop, a drought, or heavy rains, or creatures, both big and small, could do enough damage to dishearten even the most stout-hearted of men.

No, Cash Callahan, with his finely embroidered three-piece suit, his fancy horse and studded saddle, would never have enough faith to stay on. He’d never…

“Jenna?”

Startled from her musings, Jenna bit her lip and turned from the cookstove. Hard thoughts had a way of entering into your heart, Mama used to say. Made you hardhearted. “I’m just about through cooking up the meal. Come in.”

Cash entered with the basket from last night. On top sat a beautiful wildflower, rosy in hue and so very cheerful. “Brought your basket back,” Cash said.

Jenna stared at the flower, awed by its simple beauty. “Th-thank you,” she mumbled, standing there in the middle of her hot kitchen, ready to cry.

Cash stepped closer, setting the basket down on the table. “Jenna, what’s wrong?”

She shook her head and turned away. “Nothing. It’s just the onions. They sting my eyes.”

She heard him take a deep breath, then pull out a chair. When her bout of melancholy was finally over, she turned to set down a dish of diced ham and onions, biscuits and apple butter.

“Smells good,” he said then dug into the food like a man possessed. Jenna watched him devour the meal, leaving a portion of the food untouched. She poured him more coffee when he’d emptied his mug.

“Tasted even better,” he said when he was through, patting his stomach and smiling. “You’re a good cook, Jenna.”

“I make do, is all. After a long day in the fields, even mush tastes good.”

“I’ve had my share of mush, Jenna. And this here is good food.”

“I didn’t think they served anything but the best in those gambling houses.”

Cash chuckled. “They don’t. But there was a time in my younger days, when I’d consider anything that wasn’t moving around on the plate a meal. Of course, that was some time ago.”

Jenna nodded, her curiosity kindled. But she wouldn’t ask.

“Aren’t you eating?” Cash asked, eyeing her from top to bottom. His sudden and intense scrutiny had her turning around completely, toward the stove.

“I ate something earlier.”

“What?”

She spun around then, unable to control her irritation. “What did I eat?”

Cash lifted himself from his seat. His deliberate gaze pierced her with blue fire. “Yeah, I asked you what did you have to eat?”

Flustered, Jenna responded, “Why does it matter?”

“It matters. So, are you gonna tell me?”

“I had a biscuit and some milk,” she said firmly. Why did the man feel compelled to question her so?

“That’s all?”

“Yes, that’s all,” she answered, raising her voice.

“Well, shoot. That ain’t enough to feed a bird, Jenna. Why in hell aren’t you eating? I recall a time when you’d eat a portion and a half without blinking an eye. What’s got into you? You’re losing weight and you look tired all the time.”

“That’s none of your business, Mr. Callahan!” The nerve of the man, Jenna thought angrily. He had no right inquiring about anything having to do with her. And she certainly didn’t appreciate that he’d even bothered to notice her lack of appetite and the dark marks of fatigue under her eyes.

“Sure it is. It’s my business if you’re…sick.”

“I’m not sick!”

“Well, you look sick.”

“Thank you for that.” She held back tears.

“Ah, Jenna. I didn’t mean it that way. You’re as beautiful as ever. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

Jenna whirled around and braced herself against the counter. She couldn’t face him. Couldn’t look him in the eye and tell him the truth. She
was
sick, heartsick.

She’d lost everything because of Cash Callahan. She had nothing to look forward to—no joy, no future, no family to call her own. So what if she wasn’t eating or sleeping well? Why did he care? And what good would it do to admit that to him? She had a farm to run, crops to plant. That’s all that sustained her now. She doubted that a man like Cash Callahan would even understand a young girl’s foolhardy dreams.

“I’ll clean up here and meet you in the field. We have more than two acres to plow this week.”

Cash grunted something she didn’t understand then stormed out the door with his plate in his hand. Jenna peered out the window just in time to catch him tossing the last portion of his meal to Scrappy. The dog didn’t let even a morsel touch the earth. With tail wagging and a bounce in his step, the loyal animal followed behind Cash’s long purposeful strides until Jenna lost sight of them in the fields.

She turned away from the window, her gaze settling on the basket and the pretty wildflower that Cash had brought to her. She walked over to it and fingered the petals slowly, enjoying the silky texture, breathing in the subtle scent.

You’re as beautiful as ever.

“I don’t understand you, Cash Callahan,” she murmured quietly. She wished he’d never come to Twin Oaks. She wished he’d leave, the sooner the better.

“Wonder what you’d say to me now, Mama. You raised yourself a hardhearted daughter. That’s for darn sure.”

By midafternoon, Cash had seen more of the Lord’s worm-laden earth than he could have ever imagined. He’d come out and plowed with a vengeance, angrier with Jenna than he’d ever been. Damn, a man had a right to know if a woman
carried his child, didn’t he? But he couldn’t come right out and ask her. Instead, he hoped for signs; and this morning, Jenna’s lack of appetite gave him reason to wonder. She’d been eating poorly lately. Cash didn’t know much about the subject, but if Jenna carried his child, would she have more of an appetite, since she was feeding two, or less of one, since the pregnancy might make her ill?

The hell of it was, he just didn’t know.

And just as his stomach grumbled, Jenna appeared, coming up from behind carrying a thin quilt and a tall jug. “Ready for the noon meal?” she asked, her face flushed. The rise of color looked good on her, a distinct contrast to her sallow appearance of late. Cash wondered if her rosy appearance had more to do with her irritation at him than any newfound bit of good health.

“I was planning on working until suppertime.”

“You can’t work straight on through. You need to take a break. I brought sun tea. You must be thirsty by now.”

Cash wiped his face with his sleeve. She handed him the jug. “I could use a drink. Thanks, Jenna.”

“Give Mac a rest and you come and sit down on this quilt.” She unfolded the quilt then uncovered a plate of food that had been tucked inside. Cash helped her set the quilt down right there on the soil he’d just plowed. The only shade trees on the property were back at the homestead.

Cash sat down, stretching out his long legs and
glanced up at Jenna. She wore her work clothes, a ragged dress that would have been considered pretty at one time, beat-up leather boots and an apron. Long strands of golden hair draped onto her face. Cash caught her making futile attempts to push the wayward locks back into her braid. “You gonna sit down with me?”

“Only if you promise not to pester me about eating or insult my appearance.”

“Insult your appearance? I didn’t do that.” Tarnation, he’d told her she was beautiful. And it was the truth. Didn’t she know that? Her raised brows told him that she probably didn’t. And the sour look on her face said she wouldn’t buy his explanation anyway. Cash nodded. He knew a no-win situation when he came across it. “Fine.”

She sat down across from him, but stared at the field instead of looking at him. He lifted a piece of fresh bread to his mouth.

“When do you start planting?” he asked, although he pretty much knew the answer. Getting Jenna to talk was what he had in mind, and he knew she’d offer all she could about her farm.

“We can start next week or the week after, depending on how the plowing goes. We’ll have most of the fields ready. Ben and Antonio have almost finished tilling the soil up at their end. There’s just a few more acres, then we’ll try out the new seeder. There’s nothing quite so beautiful as a field waist-high of new wheat. It’s a grand
sight. I think we’ll have a real good crop this year.”

“Why so?”

“The earth here was worn out, so we let it rest. Our crop last year was small, but good. This year should be our biggest ever. We’ve never plowed so much land before. I think the soil is ready.”

Cash nodded. Jenna knew about farming and at least she was willing to share that part of her life with him.

“Well, I’d better get to Mac. He looks ready to get moving again.” Jenna rose from the quilt and headed toward the plow.

“Jenna, wait a minute.” Cash jumped up quickly. “What are you planning?”

“I’m going to finish the plowing this afternoon.” She squinted when a shock of sunlight broke from the clouds. “Whoops, forgot my bonnet. Let me borrow your hat.” She reached up fast and lifted the straw hat from his head. “Thanks,” she said mischievously, a quick but sweet smile lifting her lips. She set the hat atop her head.

Cash knew strong-arming Jenna would do no good. But he’d be damned if he was going to let her plow up the fields while he lay down on that quilt and watched.

He reached up just as fast and snatched the hat back, lifting it from her head. “Hey!”

“Jenna, you can’t plow this field.”

“Oh? I’ll have you know I just finished trading
off with Antonio up at his end. I
can
plow this field and I will.”

“No, you don’t understand. I’m just now catching on. It’s taken me all this time, but I think I’ve finally got it right. Mac and I,” he offered, glancing at the large Percheron, “we’ve bonded. I think I finally understand the old boy. I don’t want to stop now.”

“Are you telling me you enjoy plowing?”

Cash rubbed the back of his neck. That lie would be too far a stretch for even Jenna to believe. “Enjoy, now that’s a powerful word. I
enjoy
a lot of things, Jenna. A warm bed with a good, uh…book.” He cleared his throat. “A nice hot bath.” He rubbed his neck again. “A delicious meal, but I can’t really say I
enjoy
plowing.”

“So then, why do you want to get back to it?”

“I’m a man who likes a challenge. Farming is that, wouldn’t you agree? It’s something new and different. I want to learn as much as I can.”

“Why’s that? I mean to say, you’ll be leaving soon.”

He nodded, stalling for time. Jenna had him dead to rights. Then a thought struck. Perhaps it had been lingering all the while. “True and all, but it feels good working with my hands. There’s a sense of something… I don’t know. I can’t put a name on it. It just seems…right.”

Jenna nodded and he could see the spark of recognition in her eyes. Was he just telling her what
she wanted to hear, or was there some truth to what Cash had just admitted? Damn, looking into Jenna’s soft tawny eyes had his head spinning. He wasn’t seeing straight, that was for doggone sure.

“Okay, I’ll leave you to plow the field. But keep the jug and the food here, for later. I’ll take the quilt back now. I’ll see you for supper tonight.”

“Right,” he said, relieved. He watched her sashay away, her torn skirts blowing in the breeze, and Cash knew one thing. Whether she was carrying his child or not, he didn’t like the thought of her working her fingers to the bone out on these fields. His own body ached with new awareness, the muscles screaming of abuse, but Cash was stronger than Jenna. She shouldn’t have to work so doggone hard. And while he was here, he’d see that she didn’t.

The sun had set. Jenna glanced at the meal she had waiting for Cash. It was beyond cold. She’d have to throw it back onto the stove to heat it up, if the man ever decided to come for his meal.

Half an hour ago, she’d seen him enter the barn. She figured he would take a moment to clean up before coming to the house. But he hadn’t come. Jenna paced the kitchen, wondering what was going on.

On impulse, Jenna opened the back door, ready to march into that barn to see what was taking Cash so long, but something caught her attention
and she gasped. There on the doorstep sat the plate she’d given him today, cleaned and hosting the most amazing flower. A wild rose. The color of each petal, soft ivory, but the truly remarkable nature of the flower was that the outline of each one of those petals boasted a hue of pale peach.

“Oh, my!” Jenna lifted the plate and took it inside. She picked up the rose, studying it, awed by its beauty, but struck even more by its very existence. “Where did you find this, Cash?”

Jenna peered outside, but darkness had descended, a gray cloudy night with an absence of stars that denied her any view at all. She was late milking Larabeth. She couldn’t ignore that chore. She lit a lantern and headed for the barn. And if she happened to run into Cash, so be it.

When she entered the barn, all was dark and quiet. A quick stirring of fear rose up from her belly. “C-Cash? Are you in here?”

She heard a sound, and nearly jumped out of her skin. The low grumbling sound grew louder in pitch, then went soft again. Jenna lifted the lantern shoulder high and glanced around. All looked peaceful, and then the sound again seemed to boom across the barn. “Cash!”

He didn’t answer. But Scrappy showed his face, his dark eyes barely visible up on the hayloft. He gave her a look, as if to say, why are you disturbing my peace? “Where’s your master?” she whispered.

Then Jenna knew. She climbed the steps quickly and when she reached the top, it was just as she’d thought. Cash lay fast asleep on his bed of hay, his chest heaving, his slumber so labored that he snored.