Ride With Me (A Quaking Heart Novel - Book One)

  Chapter 19

  First light sifted through the lemony curtains in the little kitchen, offering an added glow to Jessica's fragile bliss. She stood at the stove and stirred oatmeal, her thoughts on the joy she and Clint had shared last evening. After the cherished kiss, Clint had cupped her cheek with a broad hand and looked at her. Just looked at her. With such deep meaning she'd been sure they'd reached a pinnacle of some kind. After that, both had entered the cabin and enjoyed the meal Jessica had prepared. With Mary none the wiser, she and Clint had communicated with long gazes, knowing smiles, and covert touches. She'd wanted the treasured hours to never end. When finally Jessica had settled on her cot for the night, her happiness had even touched her dreams.

  Yet, in the light of day, she wasn't at all sure what had happened. The kiss hadn't been in her imagination. But the rest?

  Clint had made a subtle change. He sprawled in the kitchen chair, too small for his large frame, his full attention on the coffee cup he gripped. Lost in thought. Emotionally detached. Dark stubble had already taken shape on his splendid, solemn face, and he seemed to have skipped combing his shorter hair other than with his fingers. She couldn't quite catch a gaze from him, let alone the deeply intimate ones from the night before.

  Mary had no idea what had gone on between Jessica and Clint, yet her actions seemed to show apprehension. She was smart and intuitive. Maybe she'd picked up on something Clint wasn't revealing, or maybe it was her own excitement of her granddaughter's planned arrival this afternoon.

  As content as Jessica was last night, a premonition that something bad was going to happen clung to her soul like a cold sweat to the skin. Try as she might, she couldn't seem to shake the dark sentiment.

  After breakfast the three busied themselves in preparations for Rose Marie's arrival. Clint cleaned his belongings out of the bedroom and set up a cot for himself in the kitchen.

  When they sat down for lunch, Clint's aloofness was just as potent as it had been at breakfast. Though she and Clint were cordial to one another, hesitant glances seemed to be their only form of communication today.

  Once the food was eaten with little interest, the three continued their tasks.

  "I'm taking Jessie's cot to your room," Clint said to Mary.

  "Sure, that'll be grand. Are you sure you're up to all this lifting?"

  "It's not heavy, Mary. I'm fine, a bit tired is all."

  Clint was coming out of Mary's bedroom when there was a quick rap and the front door flew open. Clint sucked in a quick breath. Jessica spun to him to see what was wrong. He was gawking in mesmerized wonder at the front door. His sharp green eyes had widened in a stare of such awe, it multiplied the disquiet she'd withstood all day long.

  As if in slow motion, Jessica twisted toward the object of his unquestionable focus. As surely as a curtain drawn open on a stage, her promised foreboding materialized right before her eyes.

  In the doorway was the most exquisite woman she'd ever seen in her life—as strikingly beautiful as Clint was overwhelmingly handsome. A tall, willowy, Marilyn Monroe-look-alike. And the minute she started talking she commanded the attention of everyone in the room, including Walt who was now standing behind her, grinning, as if he'd brought them Princess Grace.

  "Oh, there you are, Grandma! It's so good to see you again. You look wonderful." Her voice was confident and silky, nothing like the breathy Marilyn's. She floated through the room with the poise of a royal. Her skirt and petticoats—petticoats?—flowed as she glided toward Mary and clasped her in a huge hug.

  Releasing Mary, the princess swung around. The vivid yellow skirt twirled about her legs like a breeze through daffodils as she offered a hand to Jessica. Her smile was captivating. "Now who might you be?"

  Jessica stared at the proffered hand, then took it. Finally, she wrenched her gaze away from their shaking hands to the woman's face. "I'm Jessica, Roy's niece," she said around a throat so dry it felt like the Sahara.

  "Well, now, I'm very pleased to meet you, Jessica. Your Uncle Roy was very kind to lend dear Walt to drive me all the way up here." Jessica dropped her hand to her side. In a matter of a few short moments she felt totally inept—outclassed and outmoded.

  Rose Marie turned once again as she must have realized there was another person in the room she had yet to meet. When her gaze landed on Clint she gasped and touched her fingers to her lips.

  "Oh, my! And who in the world are you? Clint, perhaps?" she said around her fingertips. By the look of appreciation, it was clear Rose Marie was as captivated by Clint as he was of her. Withdrawing her hand from her mouth, she offered it to him.

  In a flash Clint became the person Jessica had seen at the dance—charm extraordinaire. Even though he was not wearing his Stetson in the house, he brought a hand up to pull on its imaginary bill, and with casual charm said, "Hello, beautiful. A real pleasure to finally meet you." He gave her one of his famous smiles, and took her hand in a gentle shake.

  Jessica froze. Hello, beautiful. It was all she could do to force her lungs to take the next full breath. What she wanted to do was run out of the cabin in screaming hysterics.

  Clint and Rose Marie gazed over each other's faces in full perusal, still clutching hands. Jessica looked on in a torturous, endless, out-of-body sort of moment. So awkward were the next few seconds that Jessica thought she would faint dead away from lack of oxygen.

  "Jessica, let's go get your cot fixed up, shall we?" Mary said, recognizing her distress. "Clint can explain to Walt why the Big-H's foreman has been up and missing for so long."

  Mary shifted her gaze to Rose Marie. "I'm sure you'll want to put your things in your room and freshen up. We'll be back in a minute."

  Mary's orders broke the spell between Clint and Rose Marie. They released each other's hand and did as Mary suggested. Mary grabbed Jessica by the arm and pushed her through the bedroom door. She closed it and wrapped Jessica in a huge bear hug. Jessica struggled to control her ragged breathing, and then slowly pulled out of Mary's embrace, unwilling to appear so weak.

  "I'm fine, Mary. Really."

  Mary studied her face. She knew it must be fuchsia by now since blood had filled her head, making it pound with unbearable pressure. Mary pushed her to sit on the bed and sat down next to her. She put a finger under her chin and pulled it up, forcing her to look straight at her. Mary wiped at tears on Jessica's cheeks she hadn't even known she'd shed.

  "Jessica, I have to admit there was a time I'd hoped Rose Marie and Clint would meet and fall in love. It was a selfish dream. Since then I've realized they'd be no good for each other. They're too much alike. Now, after meeting you, I have no doubt God has a different plan. If Clint hadn't had his mishap, you would have long since been back at the ranch when she arrived here today. I would have preferred that for your sake, but truth is, we have to trust God in this since you are here. Only God knows the plan."

  Jessica's heart floundered. After her elation last night, there seemed no graceful way to retreat from this cold reality. Quite suddenly she felt trapped. Why did I have to witness this monumental meeting?

  "Clint is fighting with all of his might against God and good sense," Mary went on. "But because of you I can see that he has come closer to God. He is drawn by your goodness and purity, Jessica. That's why you must cling to God, continue to do what's right, and wait."

  That last comment woke Jessica out of her stupor, opened her ears, and stung her conscience. When it came to Clint she hadn't done what was right. She hadn't pleased God at all. She hadn't even asked God if Clint was who He wanted for her. So, why should God help her in this?

  "Jessica, are you okay?"

  She looked over at Mary, shook her head, hesitated, and then nodded. "I'm going . . . I'm going outside. Maybe you c-could give my apologies if anyone asks?" She groaned at the arrival of the dreaded hiccups.

  Mary gave Jessica's arm one last squeeze and cracked the door open. Jessica could see Walt and Clint sitting at the table, visiting. Rose Ma
rie hadn't come back into the kitchen yet. Mary opened the door wider. Jessica slipped out and rushed toward the front door, not stopping to talk to or even look at either man.

  As she crossed the room a huge hiccup escaped her. Grimacing, she hurried to open the door and sped out.