Page 94 of Love’s Silver Bullet

Blaze’s chin nudged up, his voice deadly low. “Better than some sweet-talkin’ Casanova hurting her, Jake, don’t you think?”

A harsh groan ached in Jake’s throat as he slashed shaky fingers through his hair. He was no good for Sheridan, but nobody knew that but him because he couldn’t tell anybody why.

“I pity any woman you marry, Jacob, because it’s the kiss of death …”

The kiss of death. His mother’s words stabbed, a premonition of each and every kiss he and Sheridan had shared, reminding him all over again of the promises he’d made.

To himself.

To God.

And to Finn.

“Outside of Blaze and Dash, there’s no one I trust more to protect Sheridan, so don’t let me down, you hear?”

And he wouldn’t.

A long, weary sigh of surrender seeped through his lips. Which meant Blaze and Dash were right, because first, he needed to protect her from the dandy.

And then he’d protect her from himself.

Mauling the bridge of his nose, he finally leveled a threatening finger at both Blaze and Dash, his words grinding through gritted teeth. “This-is-the-last-time,” he bit out, swearing to himself he would leave Silver Lining Ranch if that’s what it took to keep these two clowns from forcing his hand. “Then I tell her at Christmas that I can’t marry any one ever, because I refuse to go on hurting someone I love, you hear?” Jaw locked, he extended his hand. “And I’m not doing it until you both shake on it.”

Blaze and Dash exchanged looks before Blaze released a noisy sigh, returning Jake’s grip. “All right, Sully, you got it,” he said quietly, shaking Jake’s hand before stepping aside to allow Dash to do the same. “That leaves only five months left we have to worry about, so that’s as good as we’re going to get, I guess. At least you bought us a year and a half of insurance, so this’ll have to do.” He gripped Jake’s shoulder with a sympathetic smile. “All we ask is you just work your magic, old buddy, whatever the devil that is.”

Jake buried a grunt. You don’t want to know, old buddy. Sloughing off Blaze’s arm, he stepped up to the shooting line and obliterated each and every one of Blaze’s unused cans so fast, the smoke of burned powder tainted the air.

Stalking back to the wagon, he unloaded the casings from the cylinder and jammed his revolver into his holster before striding toward Midnight to mount up. Staring both Blaze and Dash down, he bludgeoned a stiff finger in the air. “But I want you to know that I’m going to make good and sure your sister knows you two put me up to this the entire time because I’m darn sick and tired of being the heavy with someone I love, you got it?”

————

“Yeah, we got it,” Blaze muttered as he and Dash watched Jake, their once easy-going friend, jerk his horse around and gallop away, kicking up plenty of dust in his wake. A long weary sigh drifted from Blaze’s mouth as he and Dash stared into the cloud of dirt. “But what we don’t get, Sully,” he said with a hard clamp of his jaw that matched his brother’s to a rock, “is if you love her so dad-gum much, why in the devil don’t you marry her?”

CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

God help me, I don’t want to do this. Jake stood at the back entrance of the barn in the dark, staring up at a moon so bright, he didn’t even need to light a lamp.

And yet, God help me I do …

Somewhere a hoot owl called to its mate, the haunting sound in perfect sync with Jake’s somber mood as he expelled a melancholy sigh. Because truth be told, there was a part of him—the lonely part—that was more than willing to pretend a little longer that Sheridan could actually be his.

But he knew better, even if Blaze and Dash did not. Because there was another part of him—the larger part—that despised destroying all the progress they’d made being just friends, as much as he despised getting her hopes up again.

He paused to listen while a heady warmth swirled through his body. Somehow he sensed her coming long before she actually entered the barn because he’d always had a sixth sense when it came to Sheridan, his body a compass and she his true north. Blaze had promised to knock on her bedroom door and send her down like he’d done last time so Jake could say “goodbye.”

Or in Jake’s mind, the prelude to goodbye …

“Jake?”

He spun around and for the hundredth time this summer, he marveled at how the little girl he always loved had blossomed into a woman, almost overnight. Yes, her body had burgeoned at sixteen, but it hadn’t been till this summer that he saw the emergence of the woman behind the little girl. “Sorry to pull you out of bed at this late hour, Sher, but I”—he couldn’t fight the bob of his throat—“wanted to say goodbye more privately … more personally than with the whole family hanging around.”

“I’m glad,” she said with that sweet and tender smile that somehow always seemed the same, whether from the little girl or the woman, it was uniquely Sheridan. Robe modestly buttoned all the way to her neck, she moved into the barn until she stood beside him at the back door, joining in on studying the moon and stars with arms hugged to her waist. “It’s beautiful out tonight, and Grace and I were just gabbing in bed, so this is nice—a chance to talk alone before I leave.”

“I agree.” Gently taking her hand, he led her out the back door to where he’d place two bales of hay against the barn wall, facing the Sierra Nevada mountains. Majestic boulders jagged high into the indigo sky like inky shadows, where moonlight illuminated craggy patches of snow. “I thought we could sit and drink in the Sierras while we talked,” he said quietly, the majesty of their powerful beauty creating a reverence that somehow seemed appropriate for what he wanted to say. “Since I’m pretty sure Poughkeepsie has nothing like this.”

Her chuckle was as soft as the moonlight while she sat beside him on her own bale that he’d covered with a horse blanket, leaning back against the wall with knees tented and arms propped on top. “Not even close, although the Hudson Valley is very pretty, but with much tamer and low-lying mountain ranges.” A sigh drifted from her lips. “But I sure am going to miss the Sierras, my family, and”—she turned to offer a gentle smile—“you, my friend.”

Friend.