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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 softy,” 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 Thompsons’ 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. It had been a 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. felt 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 turkey 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 nickel. I’ll be bankrupt in days!” he moaned.
Reverend Thompson laughed wholeheartedly. “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.
