Baby's First Christmas. Laura Marie Altom
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got out of the truck. “Thanks for the ride, Sheriff.”
“Sure.” He glanced around. “Where’s the pink Caddy I’ve heard so much about?”
“T-bird. Maybe the roadside assistance person moved it.”
Zach walked out on the porch, waving. “Good morning.”
“Where’s her car?” Duke asked.
“I sent it over to Holt’s to look at. The roadside repair guy was terrible. Didn’t know his hat from his ankle.”
“Holt’s our town hairdresser,” Duke said to Jessie. “It’s in good hands now.”
Jessie’s eyes went wide. “I don’t see how hair relates to automobiles.”
“Oh, he can fix anything,” Duke said easily. “Don’t worry about a thing.”
Jessie felt her teeth grinding. “Did Holt say how long it would take for him to fix it?”
“No,” Zach said. “Come on in and have some breakfast. Pepper’s cooking.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Duke said, striding toward the porch. Jessie hung back.
“Is there a problem?” Zach asked.
“Yes,” Jessie said. “I can’t seem to get my car back into my possession.”
“It’s Saturday,” Zach said. “What’s your hurry?”
Jessie took a deep breath. “I don’t trust you. I want away from you, and this town. I feel like I’ve fallen into Peyton Place, or maybe even Brigadoon, and I want back into the twenty-first century—my life as I know it.”
Zach nodded. “You can borrow my truck to get wherever it is you need to go.”
Jessie’s breath left her for an instant. “Really?”
“Of course.” Zach frowned at her. “You’re not a prisoner, Jessie. For Pete’s sake!”
“I—” She narrowed her eyes.
He shook his head. “You’re not being a drama queen, are you?”
Jessie put out her hand. “Keys.”
A moment stretched long between them as he stared at her. Reaching into his pocket, he tugged his keys out and handed them to her.
Jessie looked at him another long moment, clutching the metal pieces of freedom.
“It’s over there,” he said, pointing. “Happy trails, Jessie.”
Chapter Four
Giving Jessie his truck was the fair, manly thing to do. After all, he was hiding her car. This way, he wasn’t exactly kidnapping her, as Duke had claimed, threatening to put him in the jail until Jessie left town if he didn’t behave. Zach was wisely keeping a bargaining chip. Something precious to her for which she would return. When she came back after the convention, perhaps there would be some light shed on the subject he was most worried about.
He looked at Jessie as she considered his offer, dismayed to realize he was envisioning her in a maternity dress. Liberty could whip Jessie up a beaut.
Shoving that thought from his mind, he shrugged. “The truck’s got a full tank of gas. Hit the pedal.”
“I don’t know,” Jessie said. “It seems unfair to take your truck after I hit your livelihood.”
“Call me a gentleman,” Zach said. “I don’t want you in trouble with your boss.”
Jessie glanced over at the truck. “My family owns the company. I’m the president of Jessie’s Girl Stuff.”
He couldn’t help smiling. “I sensed you might be a bit of a princess. Tell me more.”
“In case I’m the future mother of your child?”
“It’s an intriguing thought. I’m not as put off by it as I probably should be, under the circumstances.”
“And what are those?” Jessie asked.
“You’re a highly excitable female,” Zach said. “But I was looking for some excitement so I’m okay with that.”
“Funny,” she said, “you don’t seem like the type to like a high-maintenance woman.”
“True. There’s a difference between high-maintenance and excitement. I love independence in my women.”
“Excellent.” Jessie jangled his keys at him and headed toward his truck. “Thanks for the wheels.”
“No problem.” He headed after her, getting into the passenger seat. “My wheels are your wheels. It’s the least I could do for a lady who gave me an afternoon I’ll never forget.”
She barely glanced at him as she switched on the engine. “Wow. Listen to all that vroom.”
“Yep,” he said happily, putting his arms behind his head. “It’s a lot of horses.”
“And won’t I just look sophisticated when the valet parks my truck at the convention?” She glanced at him. “You can get out now. I’ve turned on the amazing vehicle without incident.”
“Oh, I’m not getting out.” Zach grinned at her. “My stuff’s all packed and in the truck bed. I like your style of traveling, so I tossed my change of clothes into a hefty bag.”
“This hefty bag of mine,” she said, holding up her carpetbag, “is a Merada Fine. It cost one thousand, nine hundred and fifty-four dollars. Please do not refer to it in the same breath with a plastic garbage sack, as convenient as one is at times.”
“That much money and it doesn’t even carry itself. Gosh, you’d think it could run by remote control or something. Or voice activation. ‘Purse open,’” he said. “‘Purse close.’”
“Very funny. My girlfriend makes these purses, so I’ll thank you not to make fun of them. I’m supporting her efforts.”
He touched her cheek. “Meradas are actually a respected breed line of horses in Texas. So it’s interesting that you’re carrying something that’s a little less urban than you’re used to.”
“Coincidence. Nothing more.”
He grinned at her stiffness. “We actually have the same sense of humor if you’d ever let yourself smile.”
“I smile. Just not around annoying men.”
He laughed. “I don’t annoy you that badly. Do I?”
“Need you ask?” She backed down the driveway. “I’ll take you with me, simply because you’re such an excitement freak. This is going to be the most boring thing you’ve ever done in your life.”
“Lots of women there, though.” Zach pulled his hat over his face, preparing to snooze while Jessie drove. “As long as my eyeballs are busy and excited, that pretty much takes care of my brain’s need for activity.”
“It’s nice of you to trust me to drive your truck.”
“No trust involved. I’m right here, overseeing the whole adventure.” Assuaging his conscience from the front seat of his truck was no difficult task, but she didn’t know that. Although he tried to drift off, Zach could smell Jessie’s fragrance, making it entirely too difficult to relax.
Possibly his senses were overstimulated because he’d been thinking of the upcoming holiday season, which Jessie had mentioned after their glorious afternoon together. He’d always loved winter holidays, most of all when he was a child.
He might have a child one day to decorate the house for, bake for and share stories with. A longing burst inside him that he’d never before recognized. “I never thought I’d want