A feeling that was half-eagerness and half-vulnerability moved through Jake—the same knotted feeling he had whenever his path crossed Ross’s. It seemed to intensify out here with the Dalton homestead so near, and Brokenstraw cattle grazing in the distance.
Ross reined his horse in. He was a lean, fit, sandy-haired man, and sat tall in the saddle. Beneath his tan Stetson, his deep blue eyes were worried as he addressed his wife, but he tried to hide his disapproval behind a smile.
“Thought you were going to wait for me,” he said.
“Sorry, but it got late, and I didn’t want to waste the sunshine. We won’t have many more seventy-degree days.”
“I know, but…” Ross seemed to remember his manners then, and glanced at Sarah. “Nice to see you, Sarah.” His gaze slid to Jake, the smile flagging a little. “Afternoon, Sheriff.”
“Ross.” Jake couldn’t say if Ross’s reaction was personal, or if the man’s long history with the former sheriff had turned him off law enforcement in general. But there was always a hint of dislike in Ross’s eyes when they met. If it was personal, their relationship was destined to get even more strained when Ross learned who Jake was.
“Excuse us for a minute?” Ross asked. “Maggie and I need to talk about something.”
“Sure,” Sarah said.
“No problem,” Jake returned at the same time. He didn’t mind at all. He’d been looking forward to getting Sarah alone.
Still, Jake’s gaze followed the newlyweds as they rode their horses to a dying willow tree, as if some genetic link made it impossible for him to look away. Then Ross brought his horse alongside Maggie’s to kiss her, and common decency made Jake turn away.
He was shocked to see what could only be called longing in Sarah’s eyes when she, too, glanced away from the intimate scene.
Jealousy cut through him, stark and powerful. Was that yearning he’d seen in her eyes for Ross? Did Sarah have a thing for Maggie’s husband?
Without thinking it through, without weighing the consequences of his actions, Jake walked his horse closer to Sarah’s and stared into her expectant brown eyes. Then he asked, point-blank, “Is Kylie my daughter, Sarah?”
Chapter 4
Sarah’s eyes widened in shock, but Jake could see fear there as well. She sent an anxious glance toward Maggie and Ross. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about paternity. You, me—getting it on beside that little creek the night—”
In a heartbeat, fear and surprise became outrage. “Getting it on?” she repeated, her dark eyes flashing. “Well, thank you very much. If I didn’t feel cheap before, I certainly do now.” With a click of her tongue and a quick nudge to the mare’s ribs, the horse broke into a gallop.
Snapping Blackjack’s reins, Jake galloped across the pasture after her, damning himself for letting his control slip again. He came up alongside her, talking to her frozen profile since she refused to look at him. “Sarah, I’m sorry. That was frustration talking. I didn’t mean to imply that our being together was anything— Will you just hold up a minute?”
“No!”
“She has black hair and blue eyes, Sarah,” Jake persisted. “She didn’t get that coloring from you or your ex-husband. And she was born in April.”
Sarah yanked back on the reins, and her mount came to a skidding halt. Jake halted his horse, too. “How could you know that?”
“It doesn’t matter. I know.”
Calling from across the field, Maggie rode back to them. “Hey! No fair taking off without the trail boss!”
Frustrated all over again, Jake blew out a long blast of air. Dammit, why did she have to come back now, just when he was finally getting somewhere?
Maggie smiled as she came up to them, politely ignoring the tension in the air, though her eyes said she’d seen everything. “Guess what? I was wrong about Ross’s motives. He has a project to finish that can’t wait.”
With enormous difficulty, Jake forced his face into amiable lines. “Did you ask him about the dispatcher’s job?”
“Not yet. I thought I’d let him get used to my riding before I sprang anything else on him.”
Sarah reined her horse away and spoke stiffly to Maggie. “Ready to go?”
“Yep. Jake? You’re welcome to join us.”
“Thanks, but I’m finished here.” Boy, was he ever. “See you tomorrow.” Then, with another tight smile, he nudged Blackjack into a tail-swishing walk and headed for the barns.
Sarah released a trembling sigh and thanked God that Maggie had returned before Jake could ask about Kylie again—and that he hadn’t insisted upon an answer in Maggie’s presence. She didn’t know what she would have said.
She would tell him. But only when there was no chance of anyone overhearing them and they had plenty of time.
“Feel like talking about it?” Maggie asked as they rode along.
Startled, Sarah met her eyes. “Talking about what?”
“Whatever’s going on between you and Jake. That was a tense little scene I rode up on.”
“Tense?” Sarah repeated, stalling for time.
“Tense. There were enough sparks flying between the two of you to burn this pasture to the ground. What’s going on?”
With a laugh and a shrug, Sarah eased her horse into a faster walk. “I don’t know. We just rub each other the wrong way. Maybe we were enemies in another life.”
“Or lovers,” Maggie joked.
Sarah gripped the reins in a stranglehold and changed the subject. Soon she had Maggie excited about choosing patterns, fabrics and trims for the quilt she wanted to make for her baby, and the conversation was as far removed from Jake Russell as it could get. But beneath it all, Sarah was ashamed because she’d finally told an out-and-out lie.
How many others would she be forced to tell before this was over?
A few minutes later, still battling his frustration, Jake led his horse past the tack room and into the barn, blinking as his eyes adjusted from bright sunlight to the comforting dimness of dark, sturdy beams. His mood began to level out. He’d been here twice since he’d relocated, and the same observations he’d made the first time occurred to him again. There was no new wood in sight. The barn was old, silent—almost churchlike if you could get past the earthy smells of hay, leather and manure. Sunlight streamed through windows speckled with hay chaff.
He doubted it had changed much since Ross Senior had been alive.
Frowning at the uselessness of his thoughts, Jake led the stallion into his stall, unsaddled him, then closed the stall door and carried his gear to the tack room.
He was startled to see Jess adding liniment bottles to the shelves near the medicine cabinet. He’d been so preoccupied, he’d passed Ross’s older brother without seeing him. Not good for a lawman whose instincts needed to be needle sharp.
Jake hung his saddle on a peg, then smiled and walked over to the Brokenstraw Ranch’s co-owner. “Hi. Didn’t see you in here when I went by.”
“Figured you didn’t,” Jess said over his shoulder. “How was your ride?”
“Great. We kicked out a few nice mule deer. Horse picked up some major burrs, though.”
“That’s not the horse’s fault.” Jess chuckled.