Page 36 of Love’s Silver Bullet

Maggie sniffed. “And tomorrow night and the night after if I have to”—she paused, head tipped in question—“that is, if it’s all right with you?”

“Of course it is!” A smile tickled Sheridan’s lips. “Actually, it’ll be fun—like a girls’ giggle fest, although I doubt Blaze will see any humor in it.”

“Good,” Maggie said with a heft of her chin, a hint of a smile squirming on her lips. “It’s time my husband discovers ‘marriage is a partnership, not a dictatorship,’ like Aunt Libby is so fond of saying”—she gave Sheridan a wink—“over and over, as a matter of fact. But thank goodness I’ve attended enough suffragist meetings with her back in New York to know just how important it is to not let a man bully me. So, I refuse to ‘butt out’ of your life like he told me to do.”

“He said that to you?” Sheridan’s mouth dropped open.

“Yes, but he’s just going to have to learn that ‘justice and liberty for all’ means wives too.” She pinched Sheridan’s waist. “And sisters!”

Sheridan launched into her sister-in-law’s arms. “Oh, Maggie, I just love you to pieces! Blaze may be a bully, but he’s an awfully smart one for marrying you.”

“Well, I’m not always so sure about that, but I can tell you one thing, sweet sister-in-law of mine,” she said with a return squeeze laced with giggles, “he’s going to be a whole lot smarter before we’re through.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“I’m so glad you came over tonight, Jake.” Megan Joy’s voice was a husky whisper as she scooted a bit closer on their back-porch swing, the full moon overhead highlighting both the sheen of her dark curls and the glimmer of hope in her eyes. “This was fun.”

Rib cage expanding and contracting, Jake realized that she was right—it had been fun spending the evening with the Burdzy’s. Drinking lemonade and playing whist with the family. Not to mention sitting on the back-porch swing with a pretty girl who actually smelled like lemon drops and offered him peppermint candy. His mouth suddenly watered at the thought of two of his two favorite tastes.

Sidling a wee bit closer, Megan Joy laid her head against his shoulder, and Jake’s mouth suddenly watered for a taste of a whole ’nother kind. He tugged her a hair closer, the warmth of her body rousing his senses. Well, maybe it was time. After all, he and Blake had spent most of their teens kissing on pretty girls, something Jake discovered he had a real fondness for.

But the moment the gals they sparked got a little older, getting ideas about marriage in their heads? Well, both he and Blaze would step real gingerly, backing off from those same girls like they were bull patties in a cow pasture. That’s when Jake decided all the sparkin’ wasn’t worth it, even though Blaze tried to talk him into canoodling with gals at the Ponderosa like Blaze did before Maggie.

Something about leading a gal on just didn’t sit well with Jake back then, not to mention he was pretty sure his Bible frowned upon the kind of sparkin’ Blaze used to do. And so, since he didn’t particularly approve of Blaze’s flirtations, Jake decided to concentrate on other things while Blaze was out foolin’ around. Things like working with Sister Fred’s orphans, or shooting, riding, fishing, poker, pool, or even horseshoes or cornhole with Half-Pint.

Half-Pint. He frowned.

The very reason he was here tonight. He thought of Clay Morgan flirting with Sheridan, and made up his mind right on the spot that Megan Joy was just what he needed. A pretty gal to nuzzle. A soft girl to kiss. A few moments that just might drive another woman—blue blistering blazes, Sullivan, she’s a little girl!—right out of his mind.

“Did … you … have fun tonight, Jake?” The uncertainty in Megan Joy’s question pierced him to the core.

Slipping an arm over her shoulder, he pulled her close. “Yes, ma’am, I surely did.” His fingers toyed with the cap sleeve of her dress, his blood warming over the delicious lemon scent of her hair. “Especially right now,” he whispered, suddenly wanting nothing more than to taste that tantalizing peppermint in her mouth. One hand caressing the nape of her neck, he carefully eased her head to face his with the other, eyes sheathing closed as he slowly bent to fondle her mouth.

“Oh, Jake,” she whispered, and the soft sound of his name on her lips kindled a fire dormant way too long, enticing him to delve deeper into a kiss that lured a soft moan from her throat. “This is what I’ve dreamed about for so very long …”

“Me too,” he said in a husky tone as he gently explored her mouth with his own. His, body suddenly stilled when he realized that it’s what he dreamed about too.

With Sheridan. Every night of his miserable life.

Expelling a guilty sigh, he pulled away to cup Megan Joy’s face in his hands. “Megan Joy, I need to go home before we get carried away, darlin’.”

“But … but will I see you again?” The fragile hope in her voice crushed him, piercing his heart with the shame that tonight, he was no better than Blaze before he married Maggie.

“Megan Joy,” he began, voice soft with remorse—

A terrified scream suddenly shattered the air.

Jake jolted up from the swing, heart racing at the sound of Miss Cramer’s cry from the orphanage next door. “Thank you for a lovely evening, Megan Joy,” he rasped as he all but leapt off the Burdzy’s front porch, shooting a look of apology over his shoulder before he vaulted the wrought-iron fence. Legs pumping as hard as his pulse, he bolted up the back-porch steps and banged on the kitchen door. “Miss Cramer?”

He stared in the window, the house completely dark except for a thin stream of light in the hall. Reaching on top of the door jamb, Jake retrieved the hidden key he and Blaze used whenever they helped Mr. Murphy with various repairs. He unlocked the door and squinted into the dark. “Miss Cramer?”

“In h-here,” a trembling voice called.

Jake found her crying in her office with her head on the desk. “Miss Cramer!” He rushed around to gently lift her to her feet. “Are you hurt?”

“Oh, Jake!” She fell into his arms, body wrenching with sobs that tore at his heart. “N-Nooo, b-but we w-were r-robbed … every c-cent of the m-money S-Sister Fred gave m-me for this m-month’s b-budget.”

“Tell me everything,” he said calmly while he gently sat her back down in her chair, squatting as he handed her his handkerchief. “Did you see who did it?”