The Husband Quest Page 5

  Jilly glanced out the window. The sun had barely risen. “This morning?”

  “Yep. Slept in, or I’d have brought two.”

  Jilly thanked Addie and took the gift, which was warm against her palm. Inside she found a loaf of fresh bread and a tiny jar of preserves. Her mouth watered as the aroma wafted across her face. Suddenly the sandwich Lightning had wanted so badly didn’t seem so appealing.

  Jilly glanced at the counter where she’d left her meal. The plate was empty.

  “Damn horse,” she muttered.

  “Lightning was mine, too. I miss the old nag.”

  “Take him.” Jilly set the fresh bread on a plate and dug a knife out of the jumble of utensils in a drawer.

  “Oh, I couldn’t,” Addie protested. “He goes with the house.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “Lightning belongs here. He’d never leave. Ever.”

  Terrific, Jilly thought. “Would you like some?” she said.

  “No, thank ye. Gotta be gettin’ home. Patients to tend. Long day ahead.”

  “Patients?” Jilly turned away from the counter. “You’re a doctor?”

  “Addie’s the local wisewoman.” Evan stood in the doorway. Though he was fully clothed, Jilly’s libido kicked in, anyway. She’d seen what lay under that T-shirt. She knew the taste of his mouth, the scent of his skin. Hell.

  “Mornin’, Addie.”

  Evan strolled into the kitchen, bending over the cooler and extracting a bottle of orange juice. Jilly couldn’t help but admire the view. She glanced at Addie, who was ogling, too.

  Addie’s gaze met hers, and the woman grinned, then winked. Jilly couldn’t help but smile back. He really was a beautiful sight. How could any red-blooded, breathing female not admire him?

  “I brought your favorite.” Addie motioned toward the bread. “Honey wheat.”

  “Thanks.” Evan tore off a hunk. “Addie makes the best bread in the state.”

  “I wouldn’t say that,” she protested, but her weathered cheeks sported a pinkish tinge.

  “Is there any way to make coffee?” Jilly asked.

  “Sorry, don’t drink the stuff.” Evan took a bite of bread and chewed with obvious appreciation.

  His teeth were slightly crooked, as Jilly’s had been before she’d endured three years of braces and head gear. An investment, her mother had dubbed the wires. Jilly had just called them torture.

  But as her mother always said, men don’t make passes at girls who wear glasses, and rich men won’t look twice at a young woman with an overbite. In the modern world the most telling indication of youthful poverty was a person’s teeth.

  Evan’s were cute. Though crooked, they were white and strong, very clean. He still had every one of them.

  Jilly walked to the window and made a great show of staring outside. “How can you live without coffee?” she asked.

  “Much healthier than living with it.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with coffee.”

  “I’d rather have juice or milk.”

  “Ugh,” she murmured. “I need to buy a coffeemaker.”

  Crash. Bang.

  Jilly jumped as Addie rustled around in a cabinet to her left. “Aha!” she cried, and yanked out a silver pot with a handle. “Here ye go.” She shoved the thing into Jilly’s hands.

  Jilly stared at it. “Uh, what is this?”

  “Percolator.” When Jilly continued to frown, Addie added, “Fer coffee? No need to buy a new pot. I’ve had that ’un since I was just married. Never had a mite of trouble with it. Makes the best coffee you’ll ever want t’ taste.”

  “You’re married?”

  “Was,” Addie said shortly. “He died pert near on the honeymoon.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Me, too.”

  “You never married again?”

  “What fer? Matthew was my man. I loved him more than anything.”

  Addie’s happy voice had grown sad. Her eyes were shadowed; her shoulders sagged.

  Love was nothing but trouble.

  “I’d best be on my way.” She headed for the door. “You need anything, I’m over yonder.” She pointed past the jumble of trees at the far end of the pasture.

  “Thank you. We’ll be fine.”

  “If ye hear funny noises and such, don’t worry none. That’s just Matthew.”

  She walked out the door and headed across the field. Lightning followed slowly behind.

  “Have you heard noises?” Jilly asked.

  “I’ve heard something.” Evan took a swig of his juice. “A whole lot of somethings.”

  Jilly made an aggravated noise deep in her throat. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

  Upstairs a loud thump sounded. Evan lifted an eyebrow.

  “What fell?” she asked.

  “Who knows? Stuff falls around here all the time.”

  “It’s an old house.”

  “Exactly.”

  Jilly scowled. “How are we going to sell the place if everyone thinks it’s haunted?”

  “Not my department—the selling. Mine’s the fixing, and we need to head to town for supplies.”

  “Right.” Jilly set the ancient coffeemaker on the counter. “I’ll just get my…things.”

  She ran to her room, hoping someone in South Fork was in need of a diamond or two.

  EVAN LISTENED TO JILLY rustling around upstairs. He hadn’t slept well last night. He’d been haunted by the taste of her lips and the echo of her sigh. His body had ached for hers, so he’d spent a lot of time talking to himself.

  What kind of man was he that he couldn’t be in the same house with a beautiful woman and not want her? Exactly the kind of man everyone thought he was.

  A lothario. A gigolo. A pig.

  All he wanted was to be a husband and a father, have a place to call his own and someone who loved him. He wanted kids to hug and play with. Little girls, like Zsa Zsa, who thought he was special. Little boys who thought he was a superhero.

  But what kind of man harbored lascivious thoughts about a woman he’d just met? What kind of father would he make if he couldn’t learn to keep his pecker in his pants?

  The kind he did not want to be.

  Ashley had hurt him by turning him down, but she’d also done him a favor. Evan hadn’t been happy, but he wasn’t sure why. Ashley’s frank comments had revealed the truth. His life might have been most men’s dream, but it was more of a nightmare.

  Coming to South Fork was his venture into a new life. He would not begin by having an affair with his business partner. No matter how much he might want to. Wanting was what had gotten him into this predicament in the first place—nearly thirty with nothing to show for it.

  The sound of Jilly’s feet on the stairs preceded her entry by seconds. She wore the same shorts and shirt he’d torn apart last night, and the sight of them, the memory of what he’d done, made him hot all over again.

  Evan slid away from the counter, intending to head out the door, but Jilly stepped into his path and held out her hand.

  “What do you think?” she asked.

  Her palm was full of silver, gold, diamonds. He blinked. “Those are real.”

  “Of course they’re real. You think I didn’t get them appraised the instant they were on my finger?”

  Evan picked up one huge rock. The thing had to be three carats, not that he was much of an expert. Set in silver, the stone had at least ten smaller diamonds surrounding it.

  “I know I won’t get what they’re worth,” Jilly said, “but we should be able to buy what we need.”

  “You’re going to sell them?”

  She shrugged. “Why not?”

  He chose another set in gold, with a waterfall of tiny diamonds falling away from a center stone that appeared even larger than the first.

  “Second anniversary.” Jilly smiled fondly. “Henry always did have exquisite taste.”

  Evan lifted his gaze from the ring to her face. “Sure di
d.”

  Her smile faded, and she took one step closer. Evan took two steps back. Why couldn’t he learn to keep his mouth shut? Last night they’d shared a kiss that a few months ago would have led to several days in bed. But he’d put a stop to it, because he wanted to change.

  Evan had promised himself no sex without love. Yet here he was, flirting again. For him, flirting was as natural as breathing.

  Not so for Jilly. She lowered her eyes, blushing. Despite being a widow, and over twenty-one, she behaved as if she were a dewy-eyed virgin.

  “How old are you?” he blurted.

  Her gaze flew to his. “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-nine.”

  Her eyes widened. “You seem younger.”

  Evan wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not. Probably not, since she snatched the rings from his fingers and stuffed the lot into the cavernous pocket of her sweat shorts.

  “Well?” he pressed. “How old are you?”

  “Old enough to know better,” she muttered.

  “Better than what?”

  “Better than to tell anyone how old I am. Didn’t your mother teach you it’s rude to ask a lady her age?”

  “No.”

  His mother had told him to settle down, behave and, recently, to be more discreet. None of her advice had been very helpful in the scheme of life.

  “Well, it is,” Jilly snapped.

  “What’s the big secret? Are you a lot older than you look?”

  Her eyes narrowed. For an instant he thought she might kick him, before she shrugged and went through the door without answering.

  “We’d do better to head to Little Rock with those,” he called.

  Jilly stopped halfway between the inn and his truck, then turned. “Why?”

  “No one around here is going to have need for diamonds the size of a fingernail.”

  “Diamonds are a girl’s best friend,” she muttered.

  “Maybe, but the women around here make do with the real thing.”

  “I told you they’re real.”

  “I meant real friends. Giggling, slumber parties, girl talk. Remember?”

  “I never giggle, rarely slumber at a party, and I can’t recall the last time I talked to a girl.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “I rarely kid, either. There’s no profit in it.”

  He stared at Jilly for several ticks of the clock, waiting for her to laugh. But she didn’t.

  “You’ve got no girlfriends?”

  His sister had filled their house with laughing, shrieking teenage girls. Maybe that was how Evan had become so darn fascinated with the female species. Having temptation bounce past his bedroom in scanty attire from the age of twelve had given him some pretty amazing dreams—and some very early sexual experiences.

  He was certain a psychiatrist would have a field day with his memories. His mother, if she ever found out he’d lost his virginity in the upstairs bathroom at age fifteen, would have a stroke, right after she kicked Mary Lou Kruppke’s bony ass.

  “Little Rock it is.” Jilly neatly sidestepped his question. “I need to return my rental car, anyway. You don’t mind if we share your truck, do you?”

  Actually, he did. The shiny silver pickup was his baby, the first new vehicle he’d ever owned.

  “In an emergency,” he allowed. “Otherwise, you can always walk to town.”

  “Walk?” she repeated, as if he’d told her to dance naked under the moon.

  That very image flashed before his eyes, and he forced it away. What was the matter with him? Sure, he liked women. He liked sex. He liked having sex with women. But he’d never been so aware of one before, so physically attracted from the instant he’d laid eyes on her. The only explanation was that in telling himself he couldn’t have Jilly, his contrary libido had decided that he must.

  Evan followed the Volkswagen to Little Rock, where they sold Jilly’s diamonds, bought some coffee for the next morning and drove home. Nevertheless, the exercise took most of the day. By the time they returned to the inn, dusk was settling over the trees like a gray, misty fog.

  The Ozarks were so far removed from Evan’s home in Illinois, he felt as if he’d entered another world. In Gainsville, acres upon acres of corn and wheat spread in every direction, with fields broken up by houses, barns, silos and livestock. The colors of the earth were plain—amber grain, green grass, blue sky. Even the cows were black-and-white.

  In South Fork, hill after hill spread into mountains of purple majesty. The sunsets faded from skies that were so much more than blue. Sunrise was scarlet fire bursting across a velvet night.

  When it rained the horizon went gray-green. Steam rose from the grass and drifted across the fields in a silver haze. Whenever the rain fell he could swear he heard heaven sigh at the beauty of this place.

  The inn was situated in one of the loveliest areas of South Fork. Once the highway went through, it might not be so lovely anymore. But without the highway, the inn would perish. A quandary. What in life wasn’t?

  Evan stared at the ancient three-story building. The windows were dark. The wind whistled through the trees. The old boards on the porch creaked. The place did not appear at all inviting. At times like these, Addie’s ghosts seemed very real.

  He glanced at Jilly, who stared at the building without much enthusiasm.

  “I’ll go in and light a lamp,” he offered.

  “No.” Her fingers trailed over his arm, stopping him, exciting him. “I like the dark. It’s peaceful. Don’t you think?”

  Evan had never cared for the dark. Probably because, as the youngest of five brothers, he’d been the victim of too many pranks in the night.

  Crickets chirped, an owl hooted, something rustled through the tall grass nearby. Probably a snake, though he wasn’t going to tell Jilly that. She might not be like any other woman he’d ever met, but he still didn’t think she’d appreciate a snake in the grass.

  “We should have eaten in town,” she murmured.

  “I’m sure there’s something in the cooler we can have.”

  “I’ll buy groceries tomorrow.”

  “You sound as if you’d rather have a root canal.”

  She snorted. “Not quite. But I hate to spend money on anything but the inn.”

  “We’ve gotta eat or we won’t be able to work.”

  “I know, but I wish we didn’t.”

  Jilly climbed out of the car. Evan followed suit. She was halfway to the house when Lightning appeared and head butted her from behind. She flew forward. The unappetizing splat told him what she’d fallen in even before she said, “Horse shit!”

  Evan helped her up, peered at her shirt. “Yep, that’s horse shit all right.”

  She shoved him away and rounded on the horse, but Lightning disappeared at a gallop into the trees at the far side of the pasture.

  “What does he have against me?”

  Evan had never had a problem with the animal, never heard that Lightning was anything other than gentle.

  “I think he likes you.”

  “Likes me? Likes me?” Her voice rose shrilly. “I’d hate to see what he does to someone he hates.” She started for the house.

  “Didn’t a little boy ever push you in the mud? Kick you in the shin? Throw worms in your face?”

  Jilly stopped and stared. “Why would they do that?”

  He shrugged. “That’s how little boys show affection.”

  “In that case, I’m glad I went to an all-girls school.”

  She strode into the house, leaving Evan to stare after her in the dark.

  She’d gone to an all-girls school, yet she’d never had any girlfriends. He found himself feeling sorry for her, yet Jilly was the least sorry person he’d ever met.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  JILLY SMELLED LIKE horse dung, but she didn’t want to go to the creek alone, and she didn’t want to go with Evan. He didn’t seem to like her.

  She wasn’t used to men not wanting her,
and wasn’t sure what to do about it.

  “Nothing,” she muttered, rifling through her suitcase searching for something suitable to wear. “He doesn’t have any money. What on earth is he good for?”

  Sex.

  Straightening, she glanced around the room. The flickering light from the single candle only made the place more spooky. Had someone spoken? Or was it all in her head?

  “My head,” she stated. “I’ve got sex on the brain.”

  An amazing occurrence. She rarely considered the physical act. Men gave marriage, security and money; she gave herself. For Jilly that had always been a bargain best kept without too much thought involved. The old adage Close your eyes and think of England came to mind.

  But since meeting Evan, talking to him, kissing him, she’d begun to consider sex as something more than a commodity. With the right person, maybe sex could be fun.

  Too bad the person her body seemed to want wanted nothing to do with her.

  The aroma rising from her T-shirt and shorts was far too ripe to ignore. She had to wash, with soap, and she wasn’t going out there alone.

  Sadly, Lightning had left her nothing to change into except a slinky white negligee. She lifted it, rubbed her fingers against the satin. Perhaps this would change Evan’s mind.

  She tucked the gown into a towel, grabbed scented soap from her cosmetics bag and marched across the hall, where she knocked on Evan’s door.

  Almost immediately, it opened. “Ready?” he asked.

  Her heart increased in tempo. Could he know what she really wanted?

  Evan’s gaze dropped. “Guess so,” he stated.

  Jilly looked down. She carried a towel, soap, shampoo. Of course he knew what she wanted.

  Together they left the inn. No stars, no moon; the clouds were out. Which made crossing the yard and meandering down the trail to the creek hazardous at best.

  Evan took her hand before they’d walked three feet. “I’ve never much cared for the dark,” he admitted.

  Was he kidding? A big, strong man like him afraid of the dark? She didn’t believe it. He was trying to make her feel better about asking for an escort.

  The dark didn’t bother Jilly. She didn’t believe in ghosts. But bats, alligators and…whatever that was making an odd grunting noise to her left? She didn’t like those one bit.