Wyoming Winter. Diana Palmer
him. He knew it without a word being spoken.
He seated Colie, to her amazement, and then pulled out a chair for himself.
“Good to have you with us, J.C.,” the reverend said gently. “Say grace, Colie, if you please,” he added.
J.C. felt stunned as the others bowed their heads and Colie mumbled a prayer. He wasn’t much on religion, but he did bow his head. When in Rome...
* * *
IT WAS A pleasant meal. Reverend Thompson seemed shocked at J.C.’s knowledge of biblical history as he mentioned a recent dig in Israel that had turned up some new relics of antiquity, and J.C. remarked on it with some authority.
“My mother was from southern Ireland. Catholic,” he added quietly. “She was forever asking the local priest to loan her books on archaeology. It was a passion of his.”
“She couldn’t get them off the internet?” Rodney queried.
J.C. laughed. “We lived in the Yukon, Rod,” he told him with some amusement. “We didn’t have television or the internet.”
“No TV?” Rodney exclaimed. “What did you do for fun?”
“Hunted, fished, helped chop firewood, learned foreign languages from my neighbors. Read,” he added. “I still don’t watch television. I don’t own one.”
“Do you hear that?” Reverend Thompson interjected, pointing to J.C. “That’s how people become intelligent, not from watching people take off their clothing and use foul language on television!”
“It’s his soapbox,” Rodney said complacently. “He only lets me have satellite because I help pay for it.”
“The world is wicked,” the reverend said heavily. “So much immorality. It’s like fighting a tsunami.”
“There, there, Daddy, you do your part to stop it,” Colie said gently, and smiled.
He smiled back. “You’re my legacy, sweetheart,” he said. “You’re so like your mother. She was a gentle woman. She never went with the crowd.”
“I hate crowds,” Colie said.
“Me, too,” Rodney added.
J.C. just stared into space. “I hate people. The best of them will turn on you, given the opportunity.”
“Son, that’s a very harsh attitude,” the reverend said gently.
J.C. finished his turkey and sipped black coffee. “Sorry. We’re the products of our environment, as much as our genetics.” He glanced at the older man with dead eyes. “I’ve been sold out by the people I loved most. It doesn’t encourage trust.”
“You have to consider that we all have a purpose,” the reverend said solemnly. “I’ve heard it said that people come into our lives when they do, for a reason. Some bring out good qualities in us, some bring out bad. Life is a test.”
“If it is, I’ve sure failed it already.” Rodney sighed. He nodded toward Colie. “She’s got a big jar. Every time I swear, I have to put in a nickel. I’ll be bankrupt in days!” he moaned.
Reverend Thompson laughed wholeheartedly. “Now, that’s creative thinking, my girl!”
“I’d take a bow, but the pie would get cold,” she teased, as she served it up.
She noticed that J.C. seemed to love his. He glanced at her, saw her watching him and grinned. She flushed and fumbled with her fork.
The reverend watched the byplay with amusement and concern. Colie was an innocent. He knew things about J.C., who was vocal about his distaste for family life and children. Colie would want marriage and kids. J.C. wouldn’t. It was a mismatch that could lead to tragedy for his daughter. He saw the danger ahead and wished he could stop it.
They had relatives in Comanche Wells, Texas, a small town in Jacobs County. He could send Colie there. She’d be away from J.C...
Even as he thought it, he realized how impractical it was. Colie had a good job. She loved Catelow. And if her continual sighing over J.C. Calhoun was any indication, she was already halfway in love. She’d never dated much, except for an occasional double date with an older girlfriend who’d later married and moved to Billings. She didn’t go out these days. She worked and cooked and cleaned and read books. Even the reverend realized it wasn’t much of a life for a young woman, who should be out learning about life.
It was just that she was going to learn things that he disapproved of. He looked at J.C., saw the way the man was watching Colie, and something inside him tightened like a rope around his throat. He averted his eyes. He didn’t know what to do. He only knew that Colie was headed for disaster.
* * *
COLIE WALKED J.C. out onto the porch, where a small light burned overhead. Snow was falling softly.
“They say we’re looking at six inches of snow,” she remarked with a long sigh.
He smiled. “I can drive in six feet of snow,” he mused. “If the theater is open, we’ll get there. If it isn’t, you can come home with me and I’ll teach you how to play chess.”
Her lips parted on a rush of excitement. He really wanted to be with her. He wasn’t teasing. She looked up into narrow, pale silver eyes and wanted nothing more in the world than to be in his arms.
He saw the look. It amused him. She had her act down pat. Playing innocent, showing all the right sort of excitement for a woman headed for her first love affair. He didn’t believe what he was seeing. He’d had too many experienced women tease him with displays of innocence, only to become wildcats once he had them in bed. It was a trust issue, he supposed. He didn’t trust women. He had good reason not to.
But he was willing to play along. In fact, he knew tricks that Colie might not know. He moved closer, taking her gently by the waist and holding her away from him just a little.
“You’ll get cold,” he whispered, bending his head so that his mouth was just above hers, not touching, but taunting.
“It’s not that cold,” she whispered back, her voice unsteady as she looked up at his mouth, focused on it with all the pent-up hunger she’d been saving for the right man, the right time, the right place.
“Isn’t it?” His voice was deep, dark velvet. He brushed his nose against hers, while his big hands smoothed up and down her rib cage, almost brushing her taut breasts—but not touching.
Her lips parted. They felt swollen. She felt swollen all over. She didn’t know enough about men to understand what he was doing to her. It was a game. A very old game. Tease and retreat, to make a woman hungry for more.
“I have to go,” he whispered, his breath mingling with hers, he was so close.
“Do you?” She was standing on her tiptoes now, almost begging for the hard, chiseled mouth so close to hers. She could almost taste the coffee on it.
“I do.” He brushed his nose against hers again, teased her mouth without touching it, and suddenly put her away from him. “Don’t stay out here. You’ll catch cold.”
“O...kay,” she said. She was disappointed, frustrated.
He saw that. It delighted him. He smiled at her. “I’ll see you Saturday. Five sharp.”
She nodded. “Five sharp.”
“Good night, Colie.”
He went down the steps before she could reply and back to his black SUV. He got in, started the engine, backed out and drove away. He didn’t look back. Not once.
* * *
COLIE WENT BACK INSIDE, frustrated and cold. Why hadn’t he kissed her? She knew he wanted to. His eyes had been hungry as they stared at her parted lips. But he’d pushed her away. Why?
She