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“It’s a good thing it’s payday,” Buzz declared and fingered the nearly empty packet of Camels in his pocket. “I’m damned near out of cigarettes myself. I got just about enough to get me into town.”
“What are you going to spend your money on, Jessy?” Bill reached over and pulled the brim of her hat lower on her forehead. “Are you finally gonna let loose of some of that money you been hoardin’ all summer and buy yourself a decent hat?”
“Don’t be insultin’ my hat, Summers. It’s got character,” she insisted with a smile. “And I’ve been savin’ my money to pay for the roping saddle Barnes is makin’ for me.”
“A saddle.” Summers shook his head in mock dismay. “And I thought you’d be buy in’ a party dress for your birthday.”
“I’d rather have a good saddle than a party dress,” Jessy retorted. She already had two good Sunday dresses, so she didn’t see the need for spending her money to buy another, especially one that she’d probably only have occasion to wear once a year. A saddle was something practical, and it would last for years with proper care. It was an investment, something she could take pride in. “Just wait till you boys see it.”
“Barnes is a damned good saddlemaker. I’ve seen some of his work,” Buzz Taylor reinforced her choice. “He’s gettin’ himself quite a reputation. Some cowboys from as far away as Colorado have had him make saddles for them.”
Ty carried the cigarette to his lips and studied the lanky girl, squinting through the curling smoke. Her tomboy mannerisms were vaguely amusing, but he also noticed the smooth coordination of her movements, each action flowing deliberately and easily into the next. There was a kind of natural grace in the relaxed posture of her body, long and slim, yet supple. His glance idled an instant on the flatness of her chest, her young breasts making little more than small bumps under the blouse material.
“When’s your birthday, Jessy?” Ty asked when he lifted his gaze and found her looking directly at him. The steadiness of her eyes made him slightly uncomfortable about the notice he’d taken of her immaturity.
“Next week,” she answered.
“We’re going to throw a bang-up party for you, too,” Buzz winked. “We’re going to invite Sheriff Potter so he’ll quit stoppin’ you for driving without a license.”
“How old will you be?” Ty attempted to do a mental calculation of the intervening years, but she answered him before he had finished his subtraction.
“Sixteen.”
A teasing light entered his eye. “Sweet sixteen and never been kissed?”
“Jessy?” Buzz Taylor hooted with laughter at the idea of the tomboy in their midst ever being kissed. “I’ll bet the only one what ever kissed her was her horse!”
Her eyes went brilliant with anger. She swept off her hat and slapped his shoulder with it. “Buzz Taylor, you shut up!” she raged in a temper, the likes of which Ty had not seen. None of the three had seen her so outraged and defensive, and it struck them all as funny. When they started laughing at her, it just made her all the madder. “I don’t go around kissing my horse!”
“The poor gal ain’t even been kissed by her horse!” Buzz roared with laughter and jabbed a pointing finger at her, all the while ducking the hat being flayed at him as she unleashed her temper on him.
“We can’t have her turn sixteen without being kissed, can we, boys?” Ty challenged with a laughing grin.
For once he was on the attacking side and someone else was the victim of a cowboy’s prank. After being shown up by Jessy, he subconsciously liked the idea of taking her down a notch or two. He pinched the fire of his cigarette
between his gloved thumb and forefinger before dropping the butt under the toe of his boot and grinding it into the hard-baked ground.
When Ty took a step toward her, Jessy whirled around to face him, suddenly realizing it hadn’t been an idle remark he’d made. Dismay and shock flashed across her face, clouding the angry glitter in her eyes. He managed to get an arm around her before she recovered and tried to buck free of his hold.
“Look out, Ty,” Buzz warned with a laugh. “She’s a wild one.”
Her struggling wasn’t the futile, feminine kind. Ty found he had his hands full as her steel-slim arms wedged themselves against his chest, warding him off while she directed some well-aimed kicks at his shins.
“Watch where you’re kicking, Jessy,” Bill Summers advised. “There’d be some explaining if you injured him in the wrong place,”
A sudden high color stained her cheeks as she ended her violent resistance and threw back her head to glare at Ty with daring defiance. Her lips were pressed together in a rigid line. It amused him to see her so helplessly out of her league. He cupped her chin in his hand and held it still while he bent his head to her motionless lips.
Instead of kissing them lightly and letting it go at that as he probably would have done with any other inexperienced girl, he made the pressure more definite and held it for several seconds longer. When he lifted his head, her eyes were tightly shut. There was a tension about her features that was somehow vulnerable.
“Now you can say you’ve been kissed,” Ty declared, struggling against the twinges of regret he was feeling.
As he let her go, she immediately dropped her chin and turned away. A dark flush rose in her face even though she maintained her controlled, tight-lipped expression.
“I’ll be damned,” Buzz murmured under his breath. “Jessy’s blushing.”
She flashed him an angry look as she scooped up the trailing reins of her horse. “Shut up, Buzz.”
Ty felt guilty for having embarrassed her with that kiss. He wasn’t the only one subdued by Jessy’s silence. There was an uneasy shuffling as the other two cowboys moved to their horses. Jessy swung into her saddle and made to rein her horse away from the others. Ty grabbed at the bridle, checking her.
