Jake Walker's Wife Read Free Page A

too," his twin put in.
    Jake stood, ignoring the dull squeal of his chair as it grazed the polished pine-planked floor. In an instant, he was beside her, one big hand pressed lightly to the small of her back. "Y'all just settle down there, Miss Bess. I'll fetch the biscuits and the 'taters for you," he said, pulling out her chair. Then, with what looked suspiciously like a sly wink, he added, "Is it all right if I call you Miss Bess?"
    She forced herself to look away from his tantalizing smile and focused on her father. "'Miss Bess' indeed!" she repeated, grinning as she put her hand on Micah's shoulder. "Tell him the rules, Pa."
    Micah cleared his throat and blotted his bearded face on a napkin. "We don't stand on ceremony around here, Jake. While you're at Foggy Bottom, you're family. I'm Micah. That's Matt and Mark. And this is..."
    " …just. Plain. Bess," she finished.
    Jake leaned close and whispered into her ear, "Nothing plain about you, if you don't mind my sayin'."
    The nearness of him and the boldness of his statement caused her to inhale sharply. It amazed her that even after the long ride from Baltimore to Freeland, he smelled like fresh hay and bath soap. His compliment echoed in her mind. She'd always seen herself as quite ordinary, especially when compared to her mother's dark, natural beauty. But the way Jake looked at her made Bess feel anything but plain.
    Not knowing what else to do, Bess dashed into the kitchen to fetch the biscuits and potatoes. When she returned, Jake was still standing where she'd left him, beside the empty chair. He took the bowls from her, put them unceremoniously on the table, and returned to his own seat. "So, will you be joining us, Just Plain Bess?" His words, his gentle smile, even his voice belied his flirtatious attitude.
    For a reason she couldn't explain, her heart fluttered in response. "I...I think I'd best get busy scrubbing those pots and pans instead," she said, heading back into the kitchen. "If you gentlemen need anything," she added over her shoulder, "just whistle."
    Before she even reached the kitchen pump, Bess heard the sweet, soft imitation of a songbird. Grinning, she wondered which of her ornery brothers had done it.
    "Say, Jake," one of the men said, "when you're finished chirpin', how 'bout passing the peas?" As she listened to the chorus of male laughter, Bess pumped water into the dishpan. Oh, you're going to have to keep an eye on this one, she warned herself, adding hot water from the kettle.
    A mighty close eye....
    ***
    Hours later, Jake lay back on his bunk, trying to remember when he'd last felt as contented. The bedsheets beneath him smelled like sunshine and spring breezes. Beside his cot, a three-drawer bureau. He'd only needed the top one to stow his gear. A man on the run had to travel light, for he never knew when he'd be hitting the road in a hurry.
    Smiling, he patted his full belly. Yes, his stay at Foggy Bottom w ould be pleasant, all right...though six months was a long time to stay in one place. Did he dare risk it?
    He stared into the darkness for a long time, hands clasped under his head, thinking about Bess. She was beautiful, with a waist so tiny he could likely encircled it with his hands, and feet so small he wondered how they held her upright. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder, even in the high-heeled boots that had peeked out from beneath her lacy petticoats as she'd scampered up the porch steps.
    Would her hair feel as soft as it looked? Frowning, he tried to come up with a word that described the luxurious color. Chestnuts, he decided after a moment.
    And those eyes, big and round as a fawn's. Jake didn't think he'd ever seen longer lashes. The sadness in her eyes confused him, though; Bess had a rich daddy, brothers who adored her, a home that was more mansion than house. What on God's green earth does she have to be sad about ?
    Surely she'd never felt the hot sting of the buckle end of a belt, or spent days