CJ stared at the ceiling. Moonlight streamed through the open window and a shaft of luminescent glow spread across her lap and the beautiful quilt she snuggled beneath. There were enormous benefits to lodging in the main house. A comfortable bed. Wood floors. Bonita’s cleaning skills. A small bureau for her clothes. No spiders. Well, none that she knew of.
She tugged the quilt higher as the cold desert night air breezed past the calico curtains and over her face and chest. It contrasted with the warmth that still clung to her cheeks. Her outlandish and impulsive stealing of Jonah’s kiss. She was mortified. Even though he didn’t seem to mind. But it was Jonah Sparks! And it was the bitter taste of humble pie. Until now, she was confident in her abilities to run circles around the British lord-turned-rancher. But after being duped by Mr. Lloyd in a matter of minutes, she was sheepish… no, she was stupid.
Her need to prove herself to Jonah had become an obsession. So much so that she couldn’t see the man Charlie claimed him to be. Sharp with numbers and business, as driven as she was to succeed in this hard wasteland, and good. Good, faith-driven, God-honoring, ethical, and utterly annoying. But now, he was annoying for a different reason. She was beginning to like him. More than like him. The erratic palpitations of her heart every time he was near wasn’t just because he was an irritant. CJ had to admit it was because she was attracted to him. He’d pushed and tested, and now his intentions seemed to have changed. Out of respect? Attraction? Maybe that was why her heart still beat with the cadence of a mustang’s gallop. Jonah was the only one who could rein in her wildness.
The thud of rushed footsteps in the hallway outside her door caused CJ to sit up in her bed. It was past one in the morning. Someone banged on her door, and she had barely swung her feet over the edge of her bed when it flung open.
Jonah, tousled hair and shirt buttoned wrong, burst into the room.
“You’re needed. It’s Charlie.”
Anxious dread clutched at her already frayed emotions. CJ wasted no time in chasing Jonah’s long strides down the dimly lit hallway.
“What happened?”
“I believe it’s his heart.”
Jonah barreled into Charlie’s room. The cowboy was on the floor where he had collapsed. His face was ashen and his eyes closed. Jonah crouched beside him, maneuvering his arms under the elderly cowboy’s back and knees.
CJ had to know. “Is he—”
“No.” Jonah’s interruption was a welcome one. “I need you to send Kip for the doctor.” He grunted as he struggled to his feet, Charlie hanging limp in his grasp.
“I’m not leaving Charlie.” CJ hovered beside Jonah as he carried Charlie to the bed.
“Now is not the time for an argument,” Jonah snapped.
“Charlie is as close to me as my own father was. I will not leave.” CJ found the kiss from earlier diminish in the pall of Jonah’s heavy-handed direction.
“For goodness’ sake!”
CJ jerked her head up to meet Jonah’s glare, Charlie balanced precariously in his arms. He leveled her with a look that would skewer an armadillo’s shell. “Go.”
She hesitated.
“For once, take direction!” Jonah’s bark. “Do you want your pride to kill him?” He turned his back to her as he bent to lower Charlie to the bed.
Her face went cold. Lord in heaven, forgive her! CJ stumbled to her feet, her nightgown snagging on her toes. What had she become?
Hurrying from the room, she paused long enough to grab Charlie’s work coat and slip it on for decency’s sake. She picked up her boots at the front door and shook them out to be sure no scorpions had taken shelter for the night, then slipped her feet in. She sprinted across the yard toward the bunkhouse.
Even as she roused Kip and explained the need, CJ wrestled with her conscience. To prove herself capable in a man’s world she had to become hard and independent. She didn’t want to take orders from Jonah. He threatened her competency. But now? She had been willing to risk Charlie’s well-being to once again not be told where to go and what to do. Shame coursed through her. In that split second, her own pride had risen above common sense. Yes, Charlie was like a father to her, but not responding quickly to Jonah’s direction was foolish.
A prayer seeped its way from CJ’s soul toward heaven as she bounded back into Charlie’s room. Lord, may I be humble, even as I fight for Jonah’s respect… and maybe even his love.
Morning brought with it the shallow breaths of Charlie and the presence of Dr. Germaine. Kip stood in the doorway, and CJ exchanged glances with him, hoping her gratitude was expressed through her tiny smile. Kip was a good man. Just not her man. He nodded and retreated back to the duties of the day.
Jonah leaned over one of the doctor’s shoulders, and CJ leaned over the other.
Dr. Germaine ignored them, his stethoscope held to Charlie’s chest. He continued his examination, finally giving them both a poignant look that indicated he needed space. Jonah backed away, but CJ didn’t. She couldn’t. Charlie’s wispy hair fell back from his forehead. A forehead creased with lines and wrinkles, a face weathered by the sun and dry winds. He was Charlie. He was the man who believed in her. “Lord, don’t let him die.”
CJ didn’t realize she’d whispered her prayerful entreaty until Jonah’s hand clasped her arm and pulled her back.
“Thank you.” Dr. Germaine was able to move.
Jonah released her arm. CJ lifted her hand to rub where Jonah’s hand had been.
Dr. Germaine turned to face them, his voice quiet. “I believe he had a heart attack. He isn’t in the best of health.”
“Yes, we are aware of that.”
We? CJ glanced at Jonah, but his attention was on the doctor. It was as if they stood united—for Charlie.
Dr. Germaine adjusted his stethoscope around his neck. “His heart is steady, for now. But from what I can surmise, it’s very weak.”
“Is he going to die?” CJ was afraid of the truth, but she needed to hear it all the same.
Dr. Germaine exchanged looks with Jonah, as if she were too sensitive to handle the news.
“I want to know,” CJ insisted.
“He may.” Dr. Germaine’s admission knocked the remaining bit of wind from her chest. “With a heart that aged, it’s also allowing liquid into his lungs. He’s not long for this world. And by that I mean it could be a few days, it could be a year. It’s all in the Lord’s hands. There’s really nothing I can do.”
CJ never cried. She hated tears. Weren’t they a sign of weakness? But when it came to Charlie, she was weak. She was unbearably weak. She needed him. Needed his belief in her. She was selfish and self-centered. But, oh, she loved Charlie so. The idea of him passing away to Glory wasn’t a relief, it was as if a thief were breaking into the stagecoach of her life and stealing her most precious treasure.
Tears crowded her throat until they suffocated her. Her lips twitched as she tried to hold them back.
“I understand,” she choked. Dr. Germaine watched her closely. Jonah tipped his head as if waiting to see her burst into tears.
CJ straightened her shoulders and swallowed. Charlie would say to be tough. “Life comes an’ it goes. Ain’t nothin’ a man can do about it. God’s got His clock goin’, an’ if it stops tickin’, then it stops. Ain’t no accident.”
“I—I’ve got work to do.” CJ retreated from the room with sure steps. Steps that spoke of a confidence she no longer possessed. She was breaking. The realization was clear now. Everyone needed someone to believe in them, to love them, to support them. Without Charlie, she would have no one. It was a very dark place she had created for herself.
Jonah stood at his study window and watched CJ as she rode Remmy in the corral. His Appaloosa was healing well and was a beautiful horse that symbolized his future dreams. But on Remmy’s back was a woman who sat straight as a stake in the ground. Stubborn, strong, willful, and yet tender inside. Now that he was looking, Jonah could see the grace inside, the woman who also yearned to be appreciated, to be loved. He could understand that. Jonah’s memories took him back to his youth when Charlie was still foreman here at the Desert Pony. He’d wanted to be appreciated. Not as someone who would be a future lord and heir to an English estate, but as a young man who wanted to be strategic, to plan, to estimate profits and loss, and to grow his uncle’s ranch into an American estate. But Mexican territory was intimidating to everyone but his uncle and Charlie. And yet they’d given him the opportunity to seek the plans God had for him. Those plans brought him back to New Mexico years later, to this very ranch, and landed him a woman as a foreman who sought that same understanding.
He slumped into his chair. Was it really that awful to let CJ oversee Remmy’s care, direct his men, be wild and free? Jonah thumbed the edges of his Bible. Charlie was right. If CJ was guilty of any sin, it was pride. But that pride may have been forged from a defense to be able to fulfill her own dreams. Yes. Jonah could relate to that. He was guilty of the exact same thing. Celia Jo Matheson was his opposite in almost every way, and yet, somehow, their hearts beat in a complementary rhythm. He could respect her. He could let her use the talents God had given her. He could—the realization stunned him—he could love her.
Midnight was a lonely hour. The lamp’s flame flickered and danced, mocking CJ’s exhaustion. She had refused to not work. She had refused to let Jonah see her be conquered. He needed to know she could do her job regardless of circumstances, no matter how grievous. But now, she needed Charlie. With no intention to sleep, CJ had reprieved Bonita from the bedside vigil and taken her place on the chair.
CJ breathed deep and reached out to tuck the red wool blanket beneath Charlie’s chin. She had driven the men today. Harder than ever. With tasks that weren’t even priorities. She closed her eyes. In her quest to be Celia Jo Matheson, respected foreman of the Desert Pony, she had become proud. The kind of proud that wasn’t a respectable confidence, but more of an arrogant devil-may-care tip of her head. Toward Jonah mostly. Her brothers all had different dreams for her, so she’d had to fight to break free and follow her own hopes. But in doing so, had she tried to prove herself so hard that she had lost sight of the needs of others? Charlie always said she had more sass than a rustled-up hen, but she didn’t want to put herself above others—even Jonah. It may be a battle to show her worth as a woman and a foreman, but that didn’t mean she was justified in becoming cocky and bullheaded. A lone tear glided down her cheek.
“Ohhhh, Charlie,” she whispered.
To CJ’s hopeful surprise, his hand moved and laid over hers. The aged man opened his misty blue eyes. “Hey, darlin’.” His voice was gritty and tired.
“Shhhh, don’t talk.”
“Why ever not?” he groused. “Dumbest thing I ever heard. As if talkin’ll kill me.”
CJ rolled her eyes and smiled, shaking her head. “You’re a gussied-up old fighter.”
“Don’t know about the gussied-up part.” Charlie’s vision grazed over the blanket that covered him. “I’m in long johns under this here blanket.”
“Well, please leave the blanket pulled up.” CJ’s voice was watery as she laughed. Charlie. So full of spit and so full of life, even as he wobbled on the verge of death.
Charlie fumbled as he reached for her hand again. His eyes drilled into hers. “You an’ Jonah figger it all out yet?”
CJ shook her head. “Trying to. Maybe.”
“Well you best git on it. Why’dya think I sent you here? To up and quit when I die?”
“I won’t quit.” CJ felt more tears escape her eyes.
“I know.” Charlie squeezed her hand. “But you’re my girl. An’ I need to know that I’m leavin’ ya in good hands.”
“And you chose Jonah?” CJ chuckled wryly even as she licked tears from the corner of her mouth. “My own hands weren’t good enough?”
Charlie smirked weakly. “Welllllll, you’re a feisty little woman. Tough. I’m proud o’ my girl. But as fierce and independent as ya are, well, ya ain’t got the constitution to be alone.”
CJ swallowed a lump in her throat.
Charlie’s smile waned and he grew serious. “Lord knows, you can’t keep ridin’ solo like a drifter. Most men an’ women don’t. ’S why God made man and woman. Time you stop fightin’ that part of ya that God created ya to be. Woman. It’s not a curse, y’know.”
“I don’t always feel that way.”
“I know. But ya sure love yer frills and lacy stuff. An’ pink. Ya love yer pink.”
CJ laughed. “I do.”
Charlie squeezed her hand again. “Lord made you strong, darlin’. But one thing He didn’t do.”
CJ held her breath. Charlie was talking sense. She needed to listen. She ached to listen. She was so tired.
“He didn’t make you less of a woman so you could be a man in a man’s world. Ya need to remember that it’s good to be a female. To want to love someone and be loved. That ain’t bein’ weak, that’s bein’ human. It’s okay to want to please someone an’ do good work. That ain’t weak, that’s partnership. Same as a man and his horse. Ya work together. One does one thing, the other does what the first cain’t. I believe that’s what the good Lord intended all along.”
It made sense. CJ swiped at the tears on her cheeks. As evidenced by her brief interaction with Mr. Lloyd, it was more than apparent Jonah embodied skills she didn’t have. That and his uncanny ability to sweet-talk a spider onto a dime novel.
“I’ve been so wrong, Charlie. I’ve been out to prove myself and I—I’ve done Jonah wrong.”
Charlie smiled. “Then do right by him. Show him ya can do yer job and respect who he is, too.”
“I love you, you old codger.” CJ leaned over and left a kiss on his leathery skin.
Charlie’s chuckle was congested, reminding CJ that time with him might be fleeting, but for now he was here and she was going to envelop him in love.
“Ya better love me. I’m the one who brought ya here. Don’t make a cowboy mad an’ let his matchmakin’ go all south.”
CJ’s eyes widened. “Matchmaking?”
“With your sass and his willpower, I ‘spect the two of ya will have a rip-roarin’ life,” Charlie mumbled before sleep claimed his heavy eyelids.
CJ saw Jonah’s shadow stretch over the bed and her chest constricted. She couldn’t help herself. She met his gaze.
His smile was gentle and full of meaning. “Rip-roarin’,” he echoed.
Charlie rocked on the porch, his red blanket wrapped around his legs. Remmy grazed in the corral as Kip and a few of the boys balanced on the top rails.
CJ wiped a strand of hair from her forehead. Sweaty and dirty. It’d been a good day. Working the mustangs had rejuvenated her. That and knowing that for now Charlie was on the front porch happy as a lark, watching the happenings of the Desert Pony. She bent and lifted a bale of hay.
Strong leather-gloved hands reached from the other side and hoisted it higher, making her release her grip.
Jonah.
“I can carry it,” CJ insisted.
Jonah ignored her. Typical. He hauled it into the barn.
CJ followed. The barn was quiet. Jonah lugged the bale down the aisle and dropped it by the stack she’d been working on. He removed his gloves and slapped them against his leg.
“Just because I offer to help doesn’t mean I don’t think you can do it.”
“You’re right.” He was. CJ knew it. She tugged her own gloves off, for something to do to avoid his striking gaze. The last few weeks had been ones of epiphany. Jonah had let her do her job without dogging her every move. The men were listening to her, and Jonah backed her up when Sam argued. When CJ sent him packing, Jonah just stood at the front door, arms crossed over his broad chest, and watched Sam go. With a nod, he’d returned to his study. It was CJ’s decision. It was her job.
Some cavalrymen had come by to meet with Jonah. Jonah invited her into the business dealings and discussion on future contracts should they be able to bring in more mustangs. He’d even proposed the idea of breeding Appaloosas for the Cavalry and was met with interest. CJ sat stupefied. Jonah’s mind worked like a whirling dervish. She could hardly follow him. He was… brilliant.
Now, Jonah gave her a crooked grin. “You rather enjoy my presence now, I believe.”
“Not particularly.” CJ gave him a jaunty smile in return and moved to take her leave.
Jonah’s hand reached out and grasped hers. She stopped. Goodness. He had calluses. Not just a bookworm; the man wasn’t afraid of a little hard work either. He drew her closer and glanced over her shoulder.
Yes. They were alone. Very. Alone.
“Say you do.”
“Do what?” CJ begged ignorance, but the softness in Jonah’s eyes just might be her undoing.
“Need a hero,” he insisted.
CJ quirked an eyebrow and tossed her braid over her shoulder. “Not really.”
“There was a spider on the hay bale.”
CJ darted a horrified glance at the hay bale, and sure enough, a brown spider, probably harmless, perched on it as if to mock her very existence.
“Very well, then. Yes. I need a hero,” CJ muttered. If only to rid her world of creatures of the eight-legged sort.
“Say it again, if you would. Let me revel in the very idea that Celia Jo Matheson needs me.”
CJ stepped toward him. Jonah’s eyes narrowed. “I need you,” she whispered.
Silence.
Jonah’s jaw twitched and his eyes darkened. “I don’t believe you mean that.”
“Well.” CJ took the liberty to straighten his silly English hat. “My sanity needs you. I don’t want the life scared out of me with more tarantulas.”
Jonah frowned. That wasn’t what he wanted to hear. CJ smirked. She enjoyed teasing him.
“You’re highly unfair if you think my heroism stops with the eradication of spiders.”
CJ raised an eyebrow. “I can outride you, I can outrun you, and I can out-lasso you. What would I need a hero for?”
Jonah tugged her closer and lowered his head. “You might have lassoed me, my dear, but I think your wildness might need to be corralled a tad.”
CJ pulled away and marched down the aisle of the barn. “Doubtful.” She gave him another smirk.
Outside, she waved at Charlie on the porch. Jonah came up behind her.
“I’m thankful he sent you here.”
Jonah’s words smoothed over CJ like a precious salve on a deep wound. She closed her eyes. Jonah continued to speak over her shoulder, his breath tickling the back of her neck.
“The Desert Pony needed you. And you being here brought Charlie back where he belongs.”
CJ waited.
“You do a remarkable job.”
She turned. Jonah’s head was tilted to the side. His tweed cap was now so much a part of him, CJ couldn’t picture him in a cowboy hat. But it was the recognition of her ability and the respect for it that captured her.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “And I promise I’ll never do business again. You are remarkable at that.”
Jonah reached out in full sight of Charlie. He rested his hands at CJ’s waist.
“Celia Jo Matheson. I do believe we’ve reached an agreement.”
She smiled up at him. “I think you may be right.”
Jonah glanced over CJ’s shoulder. “Do you know that Charlie is grinning like a crazy man right now?”
CJ smiled. “I think this is what that old codger was after all along.”
“Mmm.” Jonah reached for her hand. “Come here. Charlie has had enough entertainment for the day.”
Jonah pulled her into the shadows of the barn, leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to her mouth. “You are delectable,” he murmured.
“I’m not dinner, Jonah Sparks.”
He raised his eyebrow. CJ wished the warmth that crept up her neck didn’t give her away, but it did. Jonah grinned.
“Have you ever considered making this—arrangement—more permanent?”
Permanent? CJ leaned her forehead against his chest. Could she? And retain her freedom, her joy of being foreman, her dreams?
Jonah dipped his head and whispered in her ear. “I’d like to hold my foreman at night a bit longer than might be appropriate for an employer to do.”
Oh good heavens! CJ drew back in stunned and deliciously delighted surprise.
“I’m a rake. I realize that.” Jonah dropped another kiss on the tip of her nose. “But every willful woman needs someone who can put them in their place from time to time.”
“There is that.” CJ smirked. She planted her own kiss on Jonah’s nose. “And every straitlaced man needs a woman with just the right amount of sass.”
“I like sass.” Jonah reached out and trailed his fingers down her cheek. “But I love you.”
He leaned in and claimed her mouth. CJ surrendered. She loved him. She needed him. But he needed her, too. And that was an arrangement that CJ could get behind.