Page 33 of Falling for the Cowgirl
Jericho made a point of gazing down the wagon path at the sawmill. A few men loitered around the river that generated power for the saws. A couple of wagons were parked near the loading dock awaiting lumber, their drivers watching him, likely wondering why he’d stopped.
“I oughta make you pay in Dylan’s place since you’re the one who let him go.”
“Nobody around here will let you get away with that, and you know it.” South Park didn’t have a resident lawman, but that didn’t mean justice wasn’t served when needed.
Bat leaned again toward one of his men. They exchanged terse words before Bat straightened, holstered his gun, and gathered his reins. “You tell Dylan he’s a dead man if he so much as steps one toe in South Park without my money.”
“I suspect Dylan already knows that.”
“And you better watch your back, Bliss. You mess with me again, I’ll make sure you pay.” With the final taunt lingering in the air, Bat and his men spurred their horses away, climbing up a gradual incline.
Jericho watched until they were out of sight before he hoisted himself up onto the wagon bench. As he clucked the team forward, a strange sadness sifted through him forDylan. The fellow didn’t complain about living in Chicago and never mentioned that he missed his family, but when Jericho had left, he’d seen the desire on Dylan’s face to come with.
The truth was, Dylan needed his family in a bad way—needed their love, stability, and guidance. But after Bat’s threats, Dylan wouldn’t be able to return for a long time—if ever.
Ivy took the outstretched letter from Judd and stuffed it into her pocket before Greta or Astrid could see the Utah address on the front.
Then she resumed stirring the large ladle through the thick jam bubbling in the pot.
The older man cocked one of his fluffy white eyebrows at her.
She was relieved that Greta and Astrid had their attention on Ty and Ellie fighting with each other over a game they’d been playing at the table.
Judd reached for a mug from the shelf above the stove and then the coffeepot on a back burner.
While he poured the steaming liquid, Ivy avoided his gaze, her pulse speeding at the thought of anyone figuring out what she was up to. It was the same excited and yet frightened feeling she’d had the day she’d gone to Steele’s house for the first time to let him know she was interested in his land.
Of course, she hadn’t left Steele’s house the second time with any excitement, not after he’d all but told her she wouldn’t need a place of her own when she got married and had children. Thankfully, Jericho was an understandingman. Maybe she hadn’t exactly spelled out to him her need to have the land because of everything that had happened to her ma. But he knew how she felt about not wanting to be weak and dependent like her ma had been with Rusty.
“Sheep?” Judd’s question was low and meant for just the two of them.
Nevertheless, it made Ivy jump so that she splattered some of the jam onto the stovetop. How had he figured out what her letter from Utah was about?
She frowned at Judd and gave a curt nod toward Greta and Astrid and the children.
He just took a slurp of his coffee and watched her with his wise eyes.
She inwardly sighed. She’d seen that look enough over the years to know Judd wasn’t gonna let her get away with any avoidance tactics. Truth was, she’d never been able to get much past him. That man could see a flea on a hairy dog even if the flea disguised himself with fur and whiskers.
“C’mon.” She left the stove and headed toward the back door that led to the garden.
As they stepped out into the late-afternoon sunshine, Ivy lifted her face to the rays, not caring one tiny ounce that the sun was darkening her face. In fact, most summers her skin turned a warm brown by the end, same as all the men. If men could let the sun tan their skin, why couldn’t a woman?
She wound past the garden, now lush with all of the vegetable plants that could grow well in the higher elevation. She kept to the picket fence until she was good and far from the door. Even then, she made sure nobody had followed them out before she met Judd’s knowing gaze. “What?”
“Might as well shoot straight with me.”
She slipped her hand into her pocket and felt for the letter. “Maybe there’s some things I wanna keep private.”
“Reckon you got plenty of secrets already.”
Apparently Judd knew more about her than he’d let on to anyone. How did he always figure things out?
“I got two eyes, and I use ’em real well,” he said in answer to her unspoken question.
If he did know about her competing as Buster Bliss, he hadn’t said anything to Wyatt or Flynn yet, and she needed to make sure he kept it that way. “If I tell you about the sheep, promise you won’t go yammering to my brothers?”
“Can’t promise you anything except that I’ll always do the right and loving thing.”
