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

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  Johnnie quickly scrubbed down, threw on worn jeans and an equally worn work shirt that was once blue, and hopped into the buckboard he'd already hitched up. He slapped the reins. Bonnie bounded forward.

  He was worried about Jessica. Couldn't believe no one had found her in two days. Johnnie didn't know what thoughtless thing Clint had done to Jessica this time to cause her to run off, but he could feel his ire rising with every passing minute.

  In a few short minutes, he reached the cabin where the girls were staying and saw Mary waiting out front. "You ready?"

  "I am, but Rose Marie is still inside." Mary rolled her eyes and let him lift her into the buckboard.

  Johnnie stashed her bags behind the seat. "I'll get her. We need to go."

  Stepping up to the open front door of the small cabin, he called out to Rose Marie. He glanced toward the bedroom and caught her peeking at him through the hinged side of the bedroom door. Odd. What kind of game was she playing? "You coming?"

  "In a minute."

  What was she about? Wanting to make him wait? Even though he was in a hurry, he was not about to give her the upper hand. She'd have to come to him. Not letting on that he'd seen her, he draped an arm over the top of the door frame, and leaned into it. He began whistling an old cowboy tune.

  Finally, after a handful of minutes went by, he heard a bolstering sigh. Coming around the door, Rose Marie lifted her chin and sashayed toward him. The vision stunned him. His arms dropped like anvils to his sides, and he stood there, stupefied. The dress she wore was yellow and full-skirted, and with each step it reminded him of a field of buttercups swaying in a breeze.

  His limbs seemed to freeze in place as his eyes traced over her feminine curves. His mouth grew dry, and his temples began to pound. He knew his scrutiny was blatant, but to stop seemed impossible. He couldn't have been more disgusted with himself if he'd rushed headlong across the room to catch her up in a raging kiss.

  It shook him, this out-of-control reaction, until his perusal hit her feet and he saw . . . cowboy boots? Swift relief came in the form of choked laughter. By the look on her face this was totally unexpected, which made him laugh all the more.

  He ignored the twinge of guilt by listening to his dark side. Better than the tailspin the rest of the smitten men on this ranch are in.

  A flush rose into her pretty little cheeks, joining her scowl. She balled her small fists and planted them on her hips. "What's so darned funny?"

  Johnnie stopped laughing, though his smile lingered. He was grudgingly pleased to see her fighting back.

  He took a confident step toward her, all set to goad more. He looked down into her baby blues, and instantly recognized his mistake. A delicate scent of roses drifted to his nostrils, and a heat wave formed, billowing between them. From her or from him or both he didn't know, since his brain had gone to mush.

  Her upturned face had the most delicate of skin—ivory, satiny. Her hair shimmered in a shaft of daylight coming through the door. There were natural shades of gold and wheat and sunshine all mixed together. It took all his will power not to lean down and burrow his nose in it, to breathe his fill of her intoxicating scent.

  He forced a step back and hauled in a deep breath, hating the effect she had on him. This was the same puffed-up female who had many admirers. That thought helped him push the annoying attraction aside. He had an iron will. It was something his co-workers had applauded him for. So he'd put that ability to work to derail her lure, to make a game of quashing her maddening self-assuredness.

  "An odd outfit for Montana, was all I was thinking." He broadened his smile, knowing he rarely displayed one. He wasn't conceited. Had never thought one way or the other about his own looks, other than he'd learned long ago how to draw the interest of women when he had to. It pleased him when her breath seemed to hang up in her throat at what she saw.

  "Shall we go?" He grabbed her elbow—a little rougher than he'd planned—and prodded her ahead of him and out the front door. He pulled it shut behind him.

  A true need to find sweet, calming Jessica propelled him forward.

  "Let go of me! I can take care of myself," she said, wiggling to extricate her arm from his grasp and double-stepping to stay up with his long strides.

  Once at the buckboard he did let her go, jumped up to the seat himself, and stared back down at her.

  She gawked up at him.

  "You getting in?" he asked.

  She was glaring now. "Are you not going to help me up?"

  "Thought you didn't want my help." He gave her an innocent look. "With anything."

  "Fine," she snorted. "I can do this myself." She lifted her skirts to feel around with her foot for the jutting step. Finding it, she said, "Can you at least offer me a hand?"

  "Sure, glad to help." He pressed his lips into a thin line to keep from smiling.

  Rose Marie checked her footing one more time, then reached up. When she placed her small hand in his large one, an odd sensation shot up his arm. It startled him into a hard yank—too hard. Her slender body zipped up and walloped him across his thighs. And all he could see was petticoats fanned up and over her head. Taken aback, Johnnie looked down to a cute little lace-ruffled rump. A flash of heat flew into his ears, then filled his entire head until he felt his hair follicles pop.

  Stunned to inaction, Johnnie heard her grumble something he couldn't distinguish. At last, he forced his limbs to move, pushed her skirts back into place. He lifted her by the tiny waist he'd noticed earlier then stowed her hard on the seat next to him. A shriek of pain escaped her lips, causing a grimace to twist his. Her bones must be made of feather dust.

  "What were you thinking, Mr. Williams?" she said on a short breath, twisting her bodice and skirts back into place, then her hair, looking embarrassed. Probably for the first time in her entire pampered life.

  Ignoring her question since he had no answer, he gave a quick cluck of his tongue and snap of the reins, taking them off around the small cabin and on up the road.

  Silence stretched as the three of them bounced along the uneven road for what seemed to Rose Marie an endless, torturous amount of time. The late afternoon sun was at their backs, which meant they wouldn't arrive at Mary's cabin until well after dark.