Jade Taylor - Wild Cat And The Marine

Cat went pale. How could she tell him what he’d left behind? This man hated being in any place long enough to watch a crop mature, never mind the time it took to raise a child. She took refuge in annoyance, spitting back her reply. “That, Marine, is none of your business! Come on, you have your iced tea. Let’s join Joey on the front porch.”

Jackson came closer to her, his bulk overshadowing her own slender frame. “Wild Cat, you know I’m not just curious, don’t you? It isn’t like that with me.”

Jackson’s voice came as soft as a whisper, enticing her to confide. For his sake, and her own, she had to keep her secret. “Joey’s waiting,” she replied, her voice quiet and cold.

After that, she kept the conversation away from the personal. She was also careful to keep Joey by her side. With her child listening intently to his every word, Jackson couldn’t pursue his interest.

At nine-thirty, he stood up. “Time to go home. There’s always another stall needing to be shoveled at Gray’s Way.”

She relaxed. The danger of her secret being spilled no longer threatened. “And I’ll bet you do a heck of a good job, too.”

“I can shovel, uh, manure with the best of them. Ladies, I bid you a good night.”

Joey giggled.

Jackson swooped on her and held her high over his head. She shrieked in delight. “And you, my fair princess,” he said, “you have to go to bed, too. How about a good-night kiss for Uncle Jackson?”

Joey shook her head in denial. “You’re not my uncle!”

“No,” Jackson teased, “I’m not. I’m your handsome prince come to carry you away from the dragon lady over there. Would you like that?”

“Mommy’s not a dragon!” Joey screamed, wiggling with glee.

“No! Did I say she was a dragon? No, no! I meant she was a dragonfly!” Jackson proceeded to tickle Joey so industriously that she hardly breathed as the giggles pealed out of her.

Cat watched them together. Why hadn’t he guessed? Except for the hair color, they were so alike. Both full of scheming mischievousness. Both of them so dear to her. For a second, Cat wondered what it would be like if this scene was the norm. If every night Jackson picked his daughter up and hugged her, tickled her and kissed her, tucked her into bed and then turned that charming smile on her, what dreams could they weave together?

At that moment, he put Joey down and turned to her and Cat wondered if he’d guessed her thoughts.

“I don’t suppose you’ll give me a good-night kiss either, huh?”

Oh, she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help it. Just this once, she thought. Just this once! “You haven’t asked yet.”

“I usually take.” He came over to her and touched her cheek gently, his action belying his words.

Cat tipped her head up to look into his eyes. The brilliant blue dazzled her, framed as they were in rich, dark lashes. She got lost in their depths.

Jackson leaned down and touched his lips briefly to hers, then stepped back hurriedly, as if her touch burned him. He turned to Joey and said teasingly, “See, Joey, even your mother can be nice when she tries.”

Joey giggled, but retreated toward the door, as if afraid Jackson would try to kiss her, too. He didn’t. He waved over his shoulder as he jumped off the edge of the porch, not bothering with the steps only a few feet away.

“I’ll see you ladies in a day or two. Good night.” He loped toward the road, then broke into a sprint.

Running, Cat thought. Running away. Joey came over to stand next to her and the two of them watched as Jackson disappeared into gathering night.

WILL PEERED OUT the kitchen window as his tall son left the gravel road and started walking across the field toward Catherine Darnell’s place. He shook his head and went over to the coffeepot and filled two cups, then carried them back into the living room with the awkward limping gait the knee injury forced on him.

He handed one to Bertie and sat down next to her on the sofa. But not too close. Carefully easing his injured leg onto the patchwork ottoman, he shook his head again. “Looks like Jackson is going over to see Catherine.”

“I wondered when he might. Jackson’s been working so hard he hasn’t had time to visit his old friends.”

“He’s a good boy, mostly.”

“Now, Will Gray, why can’t you say one nice thing about your son without watering it down?”

“I love him right enough. It’s just that he worries me no end. I’m afraid he’s fixing to mess up his life.”

“I can’t see how visiting an old school friend could do that.” She lifted her coffee cup and eyed Will over the steaming brew.

Will looked back at her and for a moment forgot what he’d intended to answer. He set his coffee cup down on the end table. It gave him time to think. Then he turned back to her. “Don’t you?”

“Catherine Darnell is the finest woman in Engerville. There’s any number of things she could have done after she had her girl, but what she did was settle down and raise her the right way. I admire that. A woman isn’t a mother because she has a baby. She’s a mother when she takes care of it. Same thing I’ve always said about men.”

“I agree. One hundred percent.”

“Then why are you worried about him seeing Catherine?”

“Just seeing her won’t hurt anything, I guess.”

“Well, then?”

“I don’t have to ask you not to repeat this. I know you won’t. I’ve always wondered if that little girl is my granddaughter.”

“Wasn’t Jackson going with Rebeka back then?”

“He took Catherine to the prom. Both of them busted up with their steadies about two weeks before the prom. The opportunity was there, but I can’t see Jackson not owning up to it. If Joey was his, he would take care of her, at least. I raised him not to lie, cheat or steal, and if he’s guilty here, then he’s done all three.”

“‘If’ is a big word. Opportunity doesn’t mean he’s the culprit.”

A sudden rush of emotion choked Will. He took another sip of coffee and the hot liquid helped him speak. “Believe it or not, but I’d give anything if that child was my granddaughter. I fell in love with her when she was a baby and first started going to church with me and Helen. She’s the cutest little thing and she reminds me of Helen in some ways.”

Bertie smiled, reached over and patted Will’s hand. “You still miss her, don’t you?”

Will nodded.

JACKSON HEARD VOICES as he approached Gray’s Way. Stepping off the road, he moved to the shadows underneath a tall tree. Will stood in the yard, his walnut cane beneath his hand as he said good-night to Bertie Gillis.

“Awfully good of you to come by again,” he said.

Despite the heat of the day, the night air chilled bare arms. Bertie tugged her shawl closer about her shoulders, and tilted her blond head toward the older man. “I please myself, you know. I bear some of the responsibility for your injuries, and besides, if I didn’t enjoy cooking for you and Jackson, I certainly wouldn’t do it.”

“You bear no blame for giving me the chance to buy a young bull at a good price. I should have been more careful. I appreciate your coming by, though. More than the cooking, even, is the talk.”

“Now that is one thing I know how to do.”

Will laughed.

Bertie smiled and looked toward the tree that sheltered Jackson.

Jackson knew she couldn’t see him. The night obscured his presence too well, so why did uneasiness crawl up his spine as if he leaned against an ant’s nest, instead of a sturdy maple tree?

Bertie turned back to face Will. “Well, I’d better be leaving. Tomorrow’s my sewing circle night, but I’ll come by the day after. If you’d like?”