Page 74 of Love’s Silver Bullet

“No, ma’am.” He shook his head as he folded taut arms across his chest. “That is not friendship, Sheridan, kissing each other like that.”

“Maybe not with the normal kind of friendship,” she said, chin tipped up in reflective mode, as if she’d given this a great deal of thought. “But I like to think of our relationship as ‘friendship plus.’”

He grunted. “Plus trouble.”

She arched a brow. “Maybe to you, Jake Sullivan, but to me, it’s friendship plus hope where there are no other men but you till I graduate like you demanded. Remember?”—she closed her eyes as she splayed a hand to her chest—“No other lips but yours?”

His mouth clamped tight as heat pulsed in his face.

“So, what’s it going to be, then, Jake?” She tapped a toe impatiently on the ground while she leveled him with a challenging gaze. “Friendship plus? Or just plain friendship, where I’m free to see whomever I like in New York?”

Swearing under his breath, he turned away to slash stiff fingers through his hair, wishing he could throttle both Blaze and Dash right about now for hogtying him like this.

One quick kiss.

That’s all it had to be.

“Fine,” he heard her say on the way to the door, evidently tired of waiting on his response, “then our deal is off.”

“Sheridan!” His tone was an order for her to stop, making her wait while he fortified with a deep inhale of air. Turning around slowly, he strode toward the door where she stood and aimed a threatening finger right in her face. “One kiss, and we’re done, understood?”—he glared her down—“and no argument, agreed?”

She nodded, and he shook her with a firm clasp of her arms. “No, I want a spoken promise, you little brat, that one kiss is all it will be.”

Her head bobbed up and down as she raised a tiny palm. “One kiss, I swear.” A twinkle lit her eyes as she fluttered her lashes. “Unless you want more.”

“Ha!” He jerked his hands away as if she’d singed his fingers, determined to make it short and sweet and nothing more. “I’m not that stupid, Sheridan Marie.”

Refusing to touch her, he leaned in close to gently brush his lips against hers, every intention of pulling away.

Until she stood on tiptoe and finished him off, drawing his lips to hers like a steer to the slaughter. With a hoarse groan wedged in his throat, he pushed her to the door with only two thoughts in mind.

One. This definitely wouldn’t be short.

And two. Yes, he really was that stupid.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

“Goodness, that was fun!” Sheridan plopped down in the swing on Grace’s grandmother’s back porch along with Grace, the two of them worn out after a rewarding spring day at Mulberry Stables teaching orphans to ride.

Somewhere a mourning dove called to its mate, the soft woo-he-woo, woo, woo, woo drifting in the air along with the sweet scent of Grace’s grandmother’s cherry trees, now in full bloom. The weather was warm for late April, but perfect for teaching precious children to ride horses at a nearby horse farm owned by the family of their favorite teacher, Professor Stephanie Cassandra McCall, who also happened to be a distant cousin to Grace and Gray.

From the moment Professor McCall had discovered that both Sheridan and Grace were experienced with horses, she’d wasted no time in enlisting their help for her favorite pet project. And since Gray was also an accomplished equestrian like his sister, the three of them had quickly volunteered, forming a tight bond, not only with the many delightful children they were privileged to teach, but with each other as well.

After Christmas vacation, Sheridan was grateful for something else to occupy her mind other than Jake’s tempestuous kisses, so Mulberry Stables became a godsend. It was one of the few places she not only felt at home, but where she could give of herself to children who needed her. For the first time in her life, she felt as if she were doing something important, sowing into the lives of underprivileged children who hadn’t been as lucky as she. As much as she enjoyed attending Vassar, it was Saturdays that put a skip in her heart, giving riding lessons at the stables for orphans from The Children's Home of Poughkeepsie.

Well, that and any letter from Jake.

“You’re a natural, you know,” Grace said with a fond smile, reaching to give Sheridan’s hand a quick squeeze, the two of them alone this Saturday since Gray had a prior commitment. “The children love you, especially Wendell.”

Sheridan grinned just hearing the name of her favorite child from The Children's Home of Poughkeepsie, otherwise known as CHP. Wendell Paxton was a precocious ten-year-old boy with crossed eyes, small in stature, but large in spunk, taking on anyone who even looked at him cross-eyed. Sheridan had fallen in love with him at first sight, desperate to instill a love in this little boy that would help safeguard him against the ridicule that often came his way. “He’s a special one, Wendell is,” she said softly, smiling as she pulled a walnut from her pocket, holding it out so Grace could see the crude face Wendell had carved on it for Sheridan.

Shaking her head in wonder, Grace took the walnut and held it up to the light. “That’s absolutely precious, Sher, and proves just how much of an effect you have on children.” She handed it back with a gentle smile. “You were meant to be a teacher, my friend.”

“I know,” Sheridan whispered, fondling the walnut with a quiet smile before she slipped it back into her pocket.

And Jake’s wife as well.

Sheridan startled, the thought taking her by surprise because it hadn’t come from her. Her smile skewed. At least not this time. Back in Virginia City, Jake had just about consumed her every thought from the age of four on, but since she’d arrived in New York and started attending Vassar, things had slowly begun to change, especially since Christmas.