A Rich Man For Dry Creek And A Hero For Dry Creek. Janet Tronstad
Читать онлайн книгу.
“But I don’t need one now, because I’m rich.”
“We’ve got a lot to be grateful for.” Jenny smiled down at the girl. What did it matter if the girl kept her few dollars in her hand if it made her feel better?
“I’m especially grateful for him,” the girl whispered again.
Jenny followed the girl’s gaze and it led her straight to the tuxedoed back of—“Robert Buckwalter!” Jenny looked down at the girl in alarm. The sweet young thing’s face glowed in adoration. “What’s he done to you?”
Jenny looked at the broad shoulders of the man who was causing trouble. It wasn’t enough that he’d kissed Jenny and Mrs. Hargrove, he’d obviously kissed others, too.
Robert looked perfectly at ease, talking with a couple of teenage boys who were fidgeting with their ties. It almost looked like he was giving them a lesson in how to make a tie bearable.
Jenny wished he would turn around and face her. It wasn’t nearly as satisfying to scowl at a man’s back as it would be to scowl at his face.
Folding chairs had been pulled close to the long table. People everywhere were walking toward the chairs and sitting down.
Jenny looked over and caught the eye of one of the ranch hands. She nodded for him to begin serving the lobsters like they had arranged earlier.
“I’ll be right with you.” Jenny was in charge of bringing the melted butter to the table, but it would take a minute for the lobsters to make the rounds and she had something to do before she served it.
“Excuse me,” Jenny said. Her eyes were level with the back shoulder of Robert Buckwalter and she could feel the stiffness in her own spine. That poor innocent girl was no match for a man like this and Jenny felt she must protest his flirtation with her.
The man turned around. “Jenny!”
Jenny almost stumbled. The man said her name with joy.
“I know this is a party—” Jenny kept her eyes focused on Robert Buckwalter’s chin. She didn’t want to lose her nerve. She had stuck up for her younger siblings for years. She’d stick up for that young girl. “—and a dance at that. But you’re an adult and you have to know that a child—well, you’re old enough to be her father and I think you should remember that.”
“I’m old enough to be whose father?”
Jenny lifted her gaze from his chin to his eyes. If she didn’t know better, she would say he was puzzled. And his eyes were distracting. A clear sky blue. They made her dizzy and annoyed at the same time.
“All of them,” she snapped. “You’re old enough to be father to all of the kids here.”
“Well, that’s stretching it, but if it makes you feel better, I assure you I’m not father to anyone—especially no one in this room.”
“You shouldn’t kiss them then.”
Jenny kept her voice low. She hadn’t forgotten about the teenage boys who were standing close enough to hear what she was saying if she wasn’t careful.
Robert had no such need for privacy. “Kissing? When?”
Suddenly the air became supercharged.
“Kissing!” A teenage boy yelled out and then gave a piercing basketball whistle. “Hey everybody—he’s gonna kiss her again!”
Jenny paled and she looked back at Robert. His eyes had deepened from sky blue to a midnight blue. And he was starting to grin.
“You shouldn’t have mentioned kisses,” he said.
“What’s going on?” Jenny felt as if she’d landed in a science-fiction movie. She turned around. She was suddenly surrounded by twenty, maybe thirty teenagers and they were all noisily aiming cheap disposable cameras at her.
“I suppose we should blame my mother. She bought them the cameras so they could take pictures of the wildlife in Montana.”
“But what do they want with us? We don’t even live in Montana. I grew up in Seattle. I don’t even know what the wildlife here looks like. I’ve never seen an elk, or a mountain sheep, or—”
“I think,” Robert said, as he touched her shoulders and turned her around until she was facing him again, “they want to see this.”
Robert dipped his head toward her and Jenny’s heart stopped. She knew he meant to kiss her. It was obvious. But she couldn’t move. She meant to move. Her mind assured her of that. It was her feet. Her feet had betrayed her and turned to stone.
Robert’s lips met hers and Jenny’s feet melted. She could hardly stand. She put her arms on his shoulders more for support than anything.
Ahhh. It was sweet. Very sweet.
Jenny felt like she went to a distant place where there was nothing but this man kissing her. Everything else was fuzzy. Then she saw a bright light. And heard a faint click. Then another click. This is it, she thought. Her heart was giving out. The end was always described as coming with a bright light. She wasn’t sure about the clicking. She should have paid more attention in Sunday school. She bet Mrs. Hargrove knew about the clicking. Jenny only hoped it didn’t have anything to do with that other place. Could it be fire crackling? She really should have paid more attention.
Then the light wavered and Jenny blinked.
The kiss stopped.
She glanced up and saw his face. Robert Buckwalter looked as stunned as she felt.
“It’s the cameras,” Jenny finally whispered. She wasn’t dying, after all.
“I heard bells.”
“No, it was just the clicking.” Jenny pulled away from him slightly so she could check her feet.
Her feet would work, Jenny assured herself as she pulled away farther. She suddenly needed more room. “I’ve got to see to the butter.”
“Are you going for it again?” one of the teenage boys yelled out. “I’ve still got five shots left on my camera. Might as well fill it up.”
“Yeah, me, too,” another boy added.
“I heard bells,” Robert Buckwalter repeated slowly.
“You heard clicking,” Jenny said forcefully. She took a deep breath. “To you it sounded like bells. To me it sounded like the fires of…” She took another quick breath. “Just how gullible do you think I am? I’m not doing anything about that list, so you can just forget this—this—” Jenny waved her hand, but could not finish the sentence. This what? This earthquake? This landslide? Everything seemed more something than simply this kiss.
“Besides, I have the butter to serve,” Jenny said with dignity as she pulled herself away. She congratulated herself. Her feet worked perfectly well.
The lobsters were all eaten and the butter dishes empty before Robert felt free to escape from the party and sit on the steps leading out of the barn door.
He was a mess. Some love song was filling the barn with swaying rhythm and dozens of couples were dancing together. He should be dancing. He should be in there dancing with the woman who had turned him inside out, but he wasn’t. Jenny was bustling around making sure everyone had coffee. Everyone, that is, except him. He was sure she wouldn’t offer him any even if he stood in front of her like a beggar with an empty cup.
One thing was clear—Jenny had little use for Robert Buckwalter. What wasn’t clear was if she could love Bob instead.
“Mind if I join you?”
Robert looked up to see Matthew Curtis, the minister, coming out of the barn.
“Help yourself.” Robert moved over on the steps. The steps were wooden and had been swept clean of snow even though they were still cold enough