Page 76 of Love’s Silver Bullet

Sheridan wagged a finger. “You know, Grace Carmody, I think you may just be a bigger tease than your brother.”

Grace grinned. “What can I say? He’s a good teacher.” Sitting up, Grace wiped a palm over her lips, as if to wipe her smile away. “All right, all serious now.” The gray eyes softened. “What about Jake?”

Sheridan shifted to face Grace on the swing. “I’ve been thinking—and praying, of course—about my relationship with Jake, and I feel like I’ve handled it all wrong.”

“What do you mean?” Grace asked, turning to face Sheridan as well.

Picking at her nails, Sheridan peered up with a touch of heat in her cheeks. “Well, I’ve been trying to win his affection with kisses like my friend Sophia suggested I do.” She gave a little shrug. “Which, I will admit, at least in the beginning, helped confirm that not only is Jake attracted to me, but he truly does see me as a woman and not just a little girl.”

Grace nodded.

“But the last two times I’ve been alone with him”—chewing the edge of her lip, she looked away, barely seeing the beauty of Mrs. Carmody’s yard for the guilt in her mind—“it was me who forced the issue with kisses, apparently tempting him beyond his control because, well”—she lifted a shoulder—“he gave in even though he didn’t want to. Which I now realize wasn’t right because if I really love him, why would I tempt him?”

“So, you feel guilty about that.” Grace offered a gentle smile, her words more of a statement than a question.

Sheridan nodded, bracing her arms to her waist as she shimmied back into the swing, gaze trailing into a distant stare over the river. “I love him, Grace,” she whispered with a sudden sheen of tears, “as sure as the buds on those trees bursting into spring, but I’ve come to realize that the cost of love is steep.” A lump bobbed in her throat as she expelled a shaky sigh. “Because it means putting it before self.”

“Ah, yes,” Grace whispered, her gaze following Sheridan’s into the lush beauty of her grandmother’s backyard, “like God did for us, with His Son.” Her bodice rose and fell with a wistful sigh that matched Sheridan’s own to a breath. “Unconditional love. The greatest gift we will ever receive—or give.”

Sheridan turned to Grace once again, her voice almost breathless. “Yes, and the kind of love I want to give Jake.” A shy smile curved on her lips as hope flooded her soul. “Until, that is, I can give him far more as his wife.”

Grace arched a brow. “So, no more kisses?”

“Not unless they’re his idea,” Sheridan said with a firm shake of her head before huffing out a heavy sigh, “which will never happen, of course, because he’s made it perfectly clear he only wants to be friends. So, I’ll just write him to say that when I come home next month, we’ll do things his way.” Mischief tickled her lips as she wiggled her brows. “For now. But come graduation?” She winked. “It’s full steam ahead.”

Chuckling, Grace leaned to give her a hug. “You know, Sheridan Donovan, you’ve come a long way from that lovesick cowgirl I first met at your Aunt Marie’s tea.”

“Oh, you bet I have, and I plan to go even further yet,” she said with a heft of her chin, allowing a squirm of a smile before she hugged her friend right back, “and I intend to take Mr. Sullivan right along with me.”

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

“Daylight’s burning, boys.” Squinting up at the sun as it melted into a tree line burnished with the reds and golds of dusk, Jake smiled as he hooked a good-sized trout on his overloaded stringer. He glanced over to where Blaze and Dash were desperately trying to catch up with stringers only half full, and his smile eased into a grin.

With an extra-busy calving season this spring, the three of them hadn’t been able to indulge in one of their old-time fishing tournaments for a long, long while, so Jake couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed himself this much.

An image suddenly popped in his brain of pinning Sheridan’s hands to the barn wall, arms splayed wide over hers as he kissed the daylights out of her after Christmas.

A knot ducked hard in his throat. Okay, maybe he could. But at least he couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed himself this much fishing with his best friends. Dropping the heavy stringer back into the water, he snatched his rod and reel up and stood, snapping his line forward to settle his homemade fly upstream. “I think it’s time to call it a day—and a winner.”

Blaze peered up beneath a hooded gaze that didn’t bode well for ending the tournament anytime soon. He rose after hooking one of his brand-new homemade feather flies onto his line. “Still plenty of daylight to wipe that gloat off your face, Sully.” Smile dry, he made an easy cast downstream. “So I suggest you settle in, boy, and I’ll show you how it’s done.”

“Uh, as far as ‘showing,’ Mr. Donovan,” Jake said in a polite drawl, the innocent slope of his brows anything but, “would that be in winnin’, sir, or losin’?”

Dash’s chuckle rang out over the lazy ripple of the stream as he unleashed a graceful cast. “Nice one, Sul. I think the ‘Boss’ is getting’ a little too cocky after his rare poker win last night.”

“You mean poker winning streak,” Blaze corrected while he moseyed a little closer to where both Dash and Jake were fishing.

“Hate to break it to you, old buddy”— Jake grinned when a flash of silver caught his eye, and recasting, he deftly dropped his line in front of it—“but two games does not a streak make.”

Setting his hook hard, he flashed some teeth while he reeled his catch in. Holding the nice-sized trout up in the air, he shot Dash a wink. “Unless we’re talkin’ losin’ streaks, old buddy, given that pitiful stringer of yours.”

“I’ll show you pitiful, Sullivan.” Blaze’s jaw set—along with Dash’s hook, eliciting a loud whoop out of Blaze’s brother when he reeled in a trout almost as pretty as Jake’s. Scowling, Blaze recast in the same spot with a thin smile. “Pool tournament. Tonight. the Ponderosa before Dash’s shift. So I can educate you boys on what a real winning streak is.”

“You’re on,” Jake said with a chuckle, “because I’m feeling pretty good right about now and real lucky.” He grinned outright. Especially given the letter he’d received from Sheridan almost a month ago letting him off the proverbial hook by agreeing to his original terms. A “close friendship with the promise of more” without kisses this time, a turn of events that had literally stopped the stupid nightmares for good.

Blaze slid him a half-lidded look out of the corner of his eyes. “So I noticed, Sul. All month, as a matter of fact, not a hide nor hair of the grump we saw after Christmas.” He paused as he recast his line. “It wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with Sher coming home tomorrow, now would it?”

Yes. Face flaming, Jake turned away to whip his line in the other direction, not particularly interested in discussing Sher.