Read Online Come Home to Me by Peggy L Henderson - Free Book Online
Authors: Peggy L Henderson
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There wasn’t a cloud in the deep blue sky. Blue, like the color of Rachel’s eyes.
Jake clenched his jaw. What the hell was he thinking? Since his arrest he’d sworn off women. Just the thought of Sandra left a bitter taste in his mouth. She’d flirted with him openly at the family ranch, shown him a good time, and had him all wrapped around her little conniving finger. Since laying eyes on Rachel Parker, his plan of staying away from women had taken flight quicker than a fly sucked out of a moving car window. He cursed under his breath.
When are you going to start thinking with the brain in your head rather than the one between your legs? His brother’s words echoed in his mind. Dammit all! Just one look into Rachel Parker’s eyes, and he was lost. Something had twisted his gut and wrenched in his chest the first time he saw her, when she stood by that wagon facing into the wind. The sensation had been different from any of his previous infatuations. Every encounter with her in the last day and a half had only intensified those odd feelings.
She’s married . He’d never chased after a married woman before, either. Not even one with a steady boyfriend. There were plenty of willing girls out there. He’d never had to resort to invading another man’s turf. Of course, in his time, most girls weren’t married and had three kids at her age, either.
Jake laughed. This was absurd. Even if she wasn’t married, the thought of getting cozy with Rachel Parker was crazy. Rachel was the exact opposite of Sandra and every other girl he’d dated. She was definitely not the type to usually draw his attention, which only made his reaction to her more puzzling. She was a sweet girl. Wholesome. Just like he’d told Reverend Johnson. And she was an assignment. Nothing else. He’d make sure she stayed out of trouble, and in five months or so, after he delivered her safely to Oregon and was back in the twenty-first century, he’d look up one of his old flames in Montana.
Thinking hard, he couldn’t remember a single face of any of his former girlfriends. Each time he came close to recollecting one, a dark haired, blue-eyed beauty invaded his thoughts.
Approaching hoof beats overrode the distant jingling of harness and the soft bellowing of cattle. The mustang raised her head, her ears pricked tightly forward. Jake stood, and turned to wait for the approaching rider. He recognized one of the men who had helped him herd the livestock across the river. Annoyed that his brief moment of solitude was disturbed, Jake picked up his horse’s reins, and turned to meet the man. Marcus Powell, if he remembered right.
“Wagon master wants to know if you’re lookin’ for a place to bed down for the night,” Powell said as soon as he reached Jake.
Jake pointed behind him. “Papillion Creek, about an hour away.” He vaulted onto his mare’s back.
“Seen any sign of savages?” Powell asked, and leaned over his saddle to spit tobacco juice on the ground. He laughed. “Hell, I almost shot you. You look like a savage, ‘cept for that hair.”
Jake laughed. He had to admit there was some truth to that. Buckskin pants, no shirt, riding bareback through the hills. He might as well just stick some feathers in his hair.
“Ya got them ladies back at the wagons swoonin’, struttin’ around all bare-chested an’ all.”
“Yeah, I guess I should go get my shirt. I left it back with the Parker wagon.”
Marcus Powell leered, exposing a gap in his top front teeth. He leaned over his horse again and spit out more brown juice. “That Parker woman sure is something to look at, ain’t she?” he said, and raised his eyebrows.
Jake tensed. He gripped the reins tightly in his hand, and his mare pulled her neck and head forward in protest.
“She’s probably the most sightly woman on this here wagon train,” Powell continued. He was apparently under the impression that Jake was going to join him in this
Jake clenched his jaw. What the hell was he thinking? Since his arrest he’d sworn off women. Just the thought of Sandra left a bitter taste in his mouth. She’d flirted with him openly at the family ranch, shown him a good time, and had him all wrapped around her little conniving finger. Since laying eyes on Rachel Parker, his plan of staying away from women had taken flight quicker than a fly sucked out of a moving car window. He cursed under his breath.
When are you going to start thinking with the brain in your head rather than the one between your legs? His brother’s words echoed in his mind. Dammit all! Just one look into Rachel Parker’s eyes, and he was lost. Something had twisted his gut and wrenched in his chest the first time he saw her, when she stood by that wagon facing into the wind. The sensation had been different from any of his previous infatuations. Every encounter with her in the last day and a half had only intensified those odd feelings.
She’s married . He’d never chased after a married woman before, either. Not even one with a steady boyfriend. There were plenty of willing girls out there. He’d never had to resort to invading another man’s turf. Of course, in his time, most girls weren’t married and had three kids at her age, either.
Jake laughed. This was absurd. Even if she wasn’t married, the thought of getting cozy with Rachel Parker was crazy. Rachel was the exact opposite of Sandra and every other girl he’d dated. She was definitely not the type to usually draw his attention, which only made his reaction to her more puzzling. She was a sweet girl. Wholesome. Just like he’d told Reverend Johnson. And she was an assignment. Nothing else. He’d make sure she stayed out of trouble, and in five months or so, after he delivered her safely to Oregon and was back in the twenty-first century, he’d look up one of his old flames in Montana.
Thinking hard, he couldn’t remember a single face of any of his former girlfriends. Each time he came close to recollecting one, a dark haired, blue-eyed beauty invaded his thoughts.
Approaching hoof beats overrode the distant jingling of harness and the soft bellowing of cattle. The mustang raised her head, her ears pricked tightly forward. Jake stood, and turned to wait for the approaching rider. He recognized one of the men who had helped him herd the livestock across the river. Annoyed that his brief moment of solitude was disturbed, Jake picked up his horse’s reins, and turned to meet the man. Marcus Powell, if he remembered right.
“Wagon master wants to know if you’re lookin’ for a place to bed down for the night,” Powell said as soon as he reached Jake.
Jake pointed behind him. “Papillion Creek, about an hour away.” He vaulted onto his mare’s back.
“Seen any sign of savages?” Powell asked, and leaned over his saddle to spit tobacco juice on the ground. He laughed. “Hell, I almost shot you. You look like a savage, ‘cept for that hair.”
Jake laughed. He had to admit there was some truth to that. Buckskin pants, no shirt, riding bareback through the hills. He might as well just stick some feathers in his hair.
“Ya got them ladies back at the wagons swoonin’, struttin’ around all bare-chested an’ all.”
“Yeah, I guess I should go get my shirt. I left it back with the Parker wagon.”
Marcus Powell leered, exposing a gap in his top front teeth. He leaned over his horse again and spit out more brown juice. “That Parker woman sure is something to look at, ain’t she?” he said, and raised his eyebrows.
Jake tensed. He gripped the reins tightly in his hand, and his mare pulled her neck and head forward in protest.
“She’s probably the most sightly woman on this here wagon train,” Powell continued. He was apparently under the impression that Jake was going to join him in this
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