Page 24 of Love’s Silver Bullet

“Ma’am,” Clay continued, gaze locked with Maggie’s, “I’m on the road a lot for limited periods in most towns, so I don’t make a habit of stepping out with ladies under those circumstances. But we’re here to stay for a while, and to be honest”—his smile softened as he turned back to Sheridan—“the moment I saw you and your sister-in-law exit the ticket gate a few moments ago, I’m not sure if I can explain why, but I just felt compelled to get to know you better. That is”—he dipped his head in polite request, gaze glued to Sheridan’s face—“if your sister-in-law is so inclined—”

“Yes!” The high-pitched consent popped out of Sheridan’s mouth before she could stop it, her smile shy as her teeth tugged at her lower lip. Reveling in the obvious interest in the man’s perusal, Sheridan felt her confidence surge, stunned at how pretty he made her feel—a totally new experience, empowering her for the first time in her life. She squared her shoulders with a smile. “But I’m afraid you’ll have to ask my uncle in person, Mr. Morgan, if that’s agreeable to you?”

He grinned. “Oh, yes, ma’am. Just name the time and place.”

Sheridan grabbed Maggie’s hand, searching her sister-in-law’s face in a silent plea. “What do you think, Maggie, if Mr. Morgan showed up on Sunday to ask Uncle Finn’s permission during our horseshoe tournament and barbecue?”

“Uh … I don’t know, Sheridan—”

Sheridan’s chin nudged up. “Mr. Morgan is a guest in our town, Maggie, so what’s the harm in inviting him to my graduation barbecue, where Uncle Finn can meet him before he makes his decision? I mean the worst that can happen is Uncle Finn says no, and Mr. Morgan gets a free meal, right?”

Clay Morgan seemed to watch the interchange closely, stance shifting from one foot to the other.

“Well, I suppose it couldn’t hurt”—Maggie’s gaze suddenly flicked past Sheridan with a hesitant purse of lips—“and then again, it just might …”

Sheridan glanced over her shoulder to see Jake barreling toward them, still halfway across the field. Returning her attention to Clay, she delivered a polite smile while she nodded toward Jake in the distance. “It looks like they’ve sent a posse out after us, Mr. Morgan, so we need to take our leave before he arrives. But if you can come to The Silver Lining Ranch on Sunday at about 3:00 PM, we’ll take it from there, although I can’t promise anything.”

“Understood, Miss Donovan, but I’ll be there, ma’am, on time, guaranteed.” He tipped his hat before tugging it back on, tossing a glance at Jake before he headed in the direction of the privy. “Enjoy the show, ladies.”

“Oh, wait!” Sheridan shouted, and he turned. “How are you at horseshoes?”

A slow grin eased across his lips. “My daddy is a blacksmith, Miss Donovan, so what do you think?” With another lift of his hat, he grinned and disappeared into the crowd making their way to the latrines.

Sheridan grinned at Maggie. “If that man doesn’t light a fire under Jake Sullivan, I don’t know what will.”

Maggie nodded toward Jake, who was now close enough for them to see the scowl on his face. “I think it already has, sweetheart,” she said as she hooked her arm through Sheridan’s, ushering her forward to meet the raging bull head on. “Because if I’m not mistaken”—she winked—“that sure looks like smoke coming out of his ears.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Just who in the Sam Hill were you talking to?” Jake snapped when he finally reached the girls en route back to the arena, as miffed at Maggie for allowing the cowboy dandy to fawn over Sheridan as he was with the blasted cowboy.

“Excuse me, Jake,” Sheridan said in a sweet voice as she moved around his straddled stance with a hike of her chin, “but that’s none of your business.”

“The devil, it isn’t.” Shooting Maggie a glare, he spun around to catch up with Sheridan, halting her with a firm clasp of her arm. “It took you two so dog-gone long, your brother sent me out to make sure you weren’t kidnapped.”

“Nope, all safe and sound,” Maggie said with a bright smile, hooking Sheridan’s elbow in one fluid movement as she breezed by Jake, the two of them arm and arm on their way back to the arena.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Jake said, falling into step with the girls, his voice more of a growl than a query. “Who the devil were you talking to?”

“That’s because you didn’t ask in a civilized manner, Jake Sullivan,” Sheridan said with a pert lift of her chin, her manner far more serene than Jake’s. She nodded to several people she knew who were heading to the privy. “Haven’t you ever heard the expression, ‘catch more flies with honey than vinegar?’”

Jake’s jaw began to grind as he slowly counted to ten to restrain a curt response. He had no doubt his scowl rivaled that of Sitting Bull’s in war paint, whose posters were plastered across the wooden wall that cordoned off the entrance area from the arena tents. Yep, no question his near-nonexistent temper had been steeped in vinegar rather than honey these last few weeks.

Since that dad-burned kiss.

Filling his lungs with air, he slowly expelled it again in one long, wavering breath. “All right, Sheridan, Maggie—may I ask, then, who you were talking to back there?”

“Why, certainly,” Sheridan said with a sweet smile. “That was the manager for the Wild West Show.”

“Then what the devil is he doing out here instead of the arena?” he sniped, wishing Blaze had handled this himself instead of asking Jake. He didn’t like being grumpy. And lately, interacting with Sheridan always made him grumpy.

Sheridan halted with an arch of a brow, lips clamped tightly to deny a response.

Hands moored loose on his thighs, he huffed out a noisy sigh, gaze fused to the tips of his boots. “Sorry for the grouchy tone, ladies, but it’s never safe hobnobbing with strangers, especially dandies from a road show, so we’re just concerned for your safety.”

“And we appreciate that, Jake,” Maggie said with a patient smile, reaching out to lay a gentle hand on his arm. “We actually asked him the same thing as to why he wasn’t inside the arena. It seems that although he does occasionally fill in for one of the Rough Riders when they’re sick, his main duties relate to overseeing all planning, setup, and teardown for the Wild West show. So, he’s a very busy man. And guess what?” She wiggled her brows. “He’s Buffalo Bill’s nephew to boot.”

Some of Jake’s frustration leaked out, quickly replaced by a swell of gratitude that not only would the dandy probably be too busy to be a problem, but probably too cocky as well, anxious to ply his celebrity status on the next pretty gal he saw. Jake’s jaw steeled as he ushered the ladies through the stanchions at the front entrance.