Page 85 of Love’s Silver Bullet

Jake grinned as Midnight ambled along the mossy-edged path Jake had cut through the woods behind the orphanage, little ol’ Buster swaying back and forth in the saddle in front of Jake like that tick-tock doohicky thing on Miss Cramer’s piano. “Well, Buster, you keep earning those good marks from your teachers like you have, and you’ll earn yourself a right exciting gallop through these woods next time, with a fairy-tale spook story to boot, you hear?”

“Yes, sir,” Buster said with a little hop in the saddle, the feel of excitement in the little guy’s spindly body making Jake wish he could have little Busters of his own someday. The thought suddenly darkened his mood like the lush canopy of trees overhead darkened the woods.

Talk about fairy tales!

Trotting out of the dark into the sunlight of the backyard helped chase the gloom away, and clutching Buster closer to his chest, Jake shouted his usual “Yee-haw!” as he bolted from the woods in a wild gallop, Buster’s whoops and hollers bringing a grin to his face.

“Who’s next, Miss Cramer?” he called when he deposited Buster at the steps of the back porch, the little guy instantly darting into the backyard with a backward wave to join his friends in a stickball game.

Miss Cramer rose from the picnic table with a swish of crumbs from her hands, her smile as bright as the blazing sun overhead. “You’re done for today, Jake, so come on up and have some lunch. Mrs. Bellweather made extra roast beef sandwiches, so I have two set aside for you, young man.”

“That sounds mighty good, Miss Cramer, thank you.” Jake dismounted and tied Midnight up to the post of the brand-spankin’-new deck he and Blaze had helped Mr. Murphy build, running the entire length of the orphanage. Nudging his hat up, he mounted the steps with a rumble of his stomach, suddenly realizing how hungry he was.

“Wait!” Sophia fluttered her lashes at Jake in a tease. “And what do we have to do to get a ride, Mr. Jake?”

Jake grinned as he shot her a wink. “Well, I’d say all you have to do, Miss Lopez, is smile at pert near any cowboy you see, and it’s a done deal.” He paused on the top step, a faint furrow digging in above his nose. “Where’s Sheridan?”

Jake’s stomach tightened when Grace exchanged glances with Sophia and Kathy Jean.

“Oh, Mrs. Bellweather said Sheridan had a visitor out front, but I’m sure she’ll be back soon,” Miss Cramer explained in a cheery voice, dusting off the bench beside her for Jake to sit down. “Come, Jake, sit down and eat. You have to be starving.”

Well, he was … but not anymore.

“Any idea who?” he asked in a casual tone, taking his hat off to ruffle his hair, the growling in his stomach turning into growling of totally different kind.

“A nice young man from The Wild West show who was most polite.” Miss Cramer reached for the lemonade to fill him a glass. “I bet you’re ready for a cold drink of this.”

“Actually, Miss Cramer”—Jake put his Stetson back on with a firm tug, sauntering back down the stairs—“Blaze is expecting me back at the ranch soon, ma’am, so I should head back, but thank you for the kind offer.”

He shot Grace, Sophia, and Kathy Jean a wink as he mounted his horse. “But I’ll just bet you’ll find some takers on those extra sandwiches among those ladies over there.” Tipping his hat, he reined Midnight around toward the side of the house with a wave. “Have a good day, ladies,” he said while the ladies bid him goodbye.

Because I sure won’t.

“Clay, no, please—”

At the sound of Sheridan’s strained voice, Jake spurred Midnight on with a sharp squeeze of his legs, rounding the corner of the orphanage where Clay Morgan was kissing her while she tried to squirm free.

“Take your filthy hands off of her!” Jake’s harsh hiss carried a thousand threats as he leapt from the saddle and stormed up the stairs of the front porch, yanking Morgan around so fast, Sheridan emitted a tiny scream. Chest heaving, Jake stared him down with blood in his eyes, his voice pure venom while his fingers twitched for revenge, his temper hanging on by a thread. “You ever lay another hand on her, Morgan, and I’ll break it and every finger, you got that?”

Morgan’s eyes were black with hate as a slow smile curled on his lips. “I’ve laid many a hand on her, Sullivan, and each and every one was worth anything you care to dole out.”

Fury exploded in Jake’s brain, and jerking Morgan out of Sher’s range, he plowed an iron fist into the dandy’s jaw, toppling him over the bannister into the bushes.

“Jake, no!” Sheridan’s cry rang out in terror, but Jake barely heard as he vaulted over the bannister, ready to finish the lowlife off.

Morgan was on his feet before Jake even hit the ground. “What’s the matter, Sullivan?” he said with a come-on wave of his fingers, his feral look indicating he was itching for a fight as much as Jake. “Afraid she’ll give me more than she gives you?”

Snap! His vision went black with rage as he tucked his head and rammed into the dandy with a violent roar, slamming him flat on his back.

“Jake, stop—please!”

But he couldn’t. His body wouldn’t let him as he straddled the dandy, bloodying his pretty face with blow after blow until all he could see was the vile man who had once done the same to him.

“Jacob Sullivan—stop it this instant!” Miss Cramer’s shocked command finally registered through the fog of outrage in Jake’s brain, and rib cage heaving, he rolled off of Morgan, body numb at the damage he had done.

Clay Morgan lay groaning on the ground with eyes closed, his face sporting blood, bruises, and swelling that was just starting to show.

God help me, what have I done?