The solid chest against her cheek was far preferred over the tickling creep of the tarantula. Though she hadn’t touched it and it hadn’t touched her, she could still feel the sensation crawling over her skin. Tarantulas wouldn’t kill a person, but did it matter? It was unfortunate the good Lord hadn’t allowed them to die by falling off the ark during Noah’s flood. Spiders were her nemesis. Her weak spot. The cruelty of their creepy existence was hard enough to bear, let alone finding one had taken up residence on her favorite quilt. And how was she supposed to sleep there tonight?
Jonah’s chest rose in a deep intake of air, as if he’d been taking shallow breaths and finally needed to truly breathe. She couldn’t lift her face. Mortified. Of all the people to rescue her, it was Jonah Sparks. Of all the people to witness her weakness, it was Jonah. She couldn’t lift her face for another shameful reason: she didn’t want to.
The scent of a freshly laundered shirt mixed with a hint of leather and the distinct waft of coffee filled her senses. She missed this. Knowing that while she was strong and free, she was also cared for. Cared for by Jonah Sparks.
CJ raised her head and pulled away. Jonah’s fingers caressed her upper arms as he let go, almost as if he didn’t want to. He cleared his throat. She ran her hands over her hair and tucked it behind her ears, flipping her braid over her shoulder.
“Well.” It was all she could think to say.
“No gratitude? I did rescue you, I believe.” The goading British tone awakened her senses.
“It was a spider. I was perfectly capable—”
“Please,” he interrupted her, an eyebrow rising beneath a dark curl that sprang over his forehead. “My sainted grandmother has been awakened from her grave by the pitch of your screams.”
CJ opened her mouth to protest then snapped it shut. What could she say? She had screamed like an infant at the sight of a freakish, gothic monster in the middle of her bed. “I hate spiders.”
“So I see.”
“They’re gruesome, horrid creatures. And they absolutely shouldn’t be furry.”
“I would be more concerned about a black widow, my dear.”
He might as well have said “my darling” the way the unexpected endearment curled around her heart. She stiffened. And yet, just the other morning, this very man had sabotaged her authority on the ranch and set Kip in charge of the mustang roundup.
“I’ll be fine.” She would do her own spider eradication if there were any more to be found.
“Nonsense.” Jonah brushed past her and back into the adobe. CJ followed.
He walked around the small room, eyeing the corners of the ceiling and walls, looking behind the end table, the trunk, and any shadowy place a spider could hide.
“My uncle was bitten by a black widow once.”
His accent threatened to mesmerize her. CJ leaned against the doorjamb and crossed her arms.
“His arm swelled to rival the size of his leg. Thought it might pop open. I didn’t witness it myself, but he told me of it when I visited here as a lad.”
CJ swallowed. Swollen arms. Spider bites. Stealthy black widows could kill you, and if they didn’t, their poison was painful. Excruciating. A tarantula was a kitten in comparison.
She shivered but tilted her nose upward. She would not be bested by Jonah Sparks or a spider. Well, maybe it was too late to claim that on the latter, but she could stand firm in regard to the former.
Jonah was on his hands and knees, peering into the dark places beneath her cot. Fine man. His shoulders were wide, dark curls flipped over his shirt collar, and his hands were strong with veins that emphasized the breadth.
She needed him gone from her room. Before she lost her mind and found herself attracted to the brute.
“I’m fine now.” CJ closed her eyes. “Thank you,” she ground out, “for—assisting me.”
“You mean rescuing you?” Jonah rose to his feet and ran his hands down his pants to brush off the dust.
“You didn’t rescue me.” Her response was as lame as a wilted cactus flower.
Jonah’s lips stretched in a sardonic and patronizing smile. “I most certainly did. And I most certainly shall continue to.”
Continue to? CJ crossed her arms over her chest, trying not to look as vulnerable as she felt. “I am capable of caring for myself.” Their eyes locked. “And your ranch,” she added for good measure.
“Well then.” Jonah reached for his pistol that he’d rested on her bed. He holstered it and brushed past CJ, pausing in the small doorway to stare down at her. She could feel his breath against her skin. Tickles toyed with her stomach as he tipped his head toward her.
“I counted three black widows, one tarantula, and four other unidentified eight-legged monsters in my brief perusal of your quarters.”
CJ felt all color drain from her face.
“Now.” Jonah tapped her nose. “You may decline my offer of assistance and continue to abide in a room where a poisonous fate most certainly awaits you, or you may agree that this antiquated and run-down clay shelter is no longer suited for any human’s residence.”
Eight spiders? She’d been sleeping here with spiders? How many had crawled over her skin as she slept, tapped her nose with their legs as Jonah had just touched her? CJ couldn’t move. Jonah’s body shared the doorway and was close to pinning her against the frame.
“Wh–where will I stay?” Irritation riddled her at the tremble in her voice.
Jonah edged past her and extended his hand. He was delusional if he thought she would actually fit hers inside of it!
“Charlie’s presence in the main house will help to ease the awkwardness of your moving in.”
“I will not live in your house!” For so many reasons. She snatched her hand away from his that still stretched forward. She could only imagine Jonah’s satisfaction that she couldn’t battle against spiders, let alone live by herself. That would imply she wasn’t capable of being trusted with the management of his ranch. Not to mention Kip—the other men. Their imaginations would run wild with the idea of her sleeping in the main house. Charlie might eliminate some of the indecency, but not all.
Jonah was watching her. Well, boots and spurs, he didn’t have to look so smug!
“I will not live in your house,” CJ reaffirmed.
“Very well, then,” Jonah sauntered toward the main house. He paused and looked over his shoulder at her. “I’ve heard that smoke and heat helps to rid one of a spider infestation. Might I recommend a bonfire?”
“Heard ya moved into the main house.”
Kip’s observation startled CJ. She attempted to hide her surprise by his sudden presence and focused instead on wrapping Remmy’s knee. It was healing well. In a week, she could try mounting her. Although Jonah would probably throw fits over that, too. She wasn’t listening to his instruction that only he would care for the Appaloosa. He didn’t understand how to properly wrap the knee, and he was so buried in his ledgers that he probably didn’t even realize she had Remmy in the corral again.
“Spiders, huh?”
“Stuff it, Kip.” CJ didn’t want to defend herself to another man. Especially Kip.
“Hey.” He held up his palms. “Spiders give me the willies, too.”
But his eyes searched her face. Main house. Jonah. Bachelor. Single woman. Old man. Or was it more? CJ realized their eyes had locked. She looked away and leaned her head against Remmy’s side. The wrap was complete. She let the horse’s leg go, and Remmy shifted her weight, tendering the wounded limb.
“So—uh—the mustangs…”
Kip’s hesitation was clear. He didn’t want to usurp her authority, God love him, and yet he wasn’t confident. The men were waiting to bring in the mustangs. They’d been corralled for several days now. They were itching to start breaking them.
“Yes.” CJ ran her hands along Remmy’s dotted coat, the horse warm beneath her touch. “We need to drive them here. Into the two main corrals.”
“Separate the young ones?”
“Not yet.”
Kip nodded and picked some sandburs off his jeans. He gave her a sideways glance. CJ waited. There was something on his mind. More than the mustangs.
“Heard ’bout that spring shindig in town this weekend?”
So that was it.
CJ made pretense to run her fingers through Remmy’s mane. The horse turned her head and nudged CJ’s arm.
“Yes.”
How had Kip even heard about it?
“There’s gonna be a dance.”
“Mmhmm.” CJ wrestled with intuition. It was coming. An invitation to go on his arm. Highly inappropriate for him to ask, considering her position. Highly tempting to accept, considering her love of dancing. She could wear a beautiful dress. The pink one in her trunk that she’d packed on a whim.
“I was thinkin’—I mean, I know that—”
Kip’s stumble was interrupted as Jonah’s voice cracked the tension-riddled air that embraced Kip and CJ.
“You’re not pondering asking your foreman to the spring dance, are you?”
Kip stiffened.
“Dandy,” CJ muttered under her breath. Jonah was everywhere. And for some reason, since she’d had no choice but to move into the main house, he’d somehow become more… persistent in questioning her every move. Charlie certainly didn’t help. He’d ask her all sorts of questions about her day over dinner. The poor man was aching to be in her boots, running the ranch, directing the men, handling the horses. He was aged, limited, and now he lived vicariously through her. CJ felt obliged to answer because she loved Charlie. But that meant Jonah was now getting nightly reports and had been questioning her reasoning even closer. Well, darn tootin’, he wasn’t going to question her choice of dance partners.
“I believe he was going to invite me.” CJ turned from Remmy, though she buried her hand in Remmy’s mane for support.
Jonah’s eyes snapped.
Kip reddened.
“Weren’t you?” CJ tossed the flippant question to her ranch hand.
Kip coughed. Cleared his throat. Picked another sandbur off his sleeve. “I figgered—ain’t right ya go alone—or not at all.”
Jonah adjusted his ridiculous English tweed cap. “I believe Charlie or I can see that Celia Jo is escorted properly, should she deem to have a desire to attend.”
Highfalutin English. CJ pursed her lips and read the challenge in Jonah’s eyes. Escorted by him? She’d rather move back into the spider-infested adobe. Maybe that was rash. She’d rather wrassle a rattler.
CJ turned her attention back to her mortified ranch hand. Kip’s brown eyes reminded her of the cattle dog she had as a kid. Hopeful but shy. “I would love to dance with you, Kip.”
“Dance, but not attend.” Jonah was quick to clarify.
“Oh no.” CJ shook her head and couldn’t help the sauce she felt rise inside and release in the form of a mischievous smile. “I’m attending with Kip. Just us. The two of us.”
A muscle in Jonah’s jaw twitched.
“Well, I’ll be.” Kip whistled under his breath.
“I have a lovely dress to wear also. Saved it just for something like this.” CJ smirked in Jonah’s direction. His eyes narrowed. She swept her own gaze across his annoyed expression and rested it on Kip’s delighted face. “Do you like pink?”